Need

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"And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.
For me it happens all the time..."


I look around and I see her. This. That. The clock. The lamp. Everything. I can't sit on my couch, put my feet on the coffee table, or sit right here at my bar and not remember. She was there. She helped me pick out this apartment. She was with me when I bought my furniture and helped me pick the perfect decorations at Garden Ridge. I loved this place because of her. Because of us.

For so long we were inseparable. If we weren't together literally, we were together figuratively via text, Facebook, and email. She was my best friend, my girlfriend, my person. She was what made sense of my world, made me laugh, made me feel beautiful. In as much as I never wanted anyone to be everything, she was damn close. God damn close.

"I don't know how I can do without
I just need you now..."

Oh, I'm quite certain she doesn't need me now. I'm blocked from everywhere it's possible to block me from. I would argue that's more about her than me, but we aren't speaking much less arguing so I am left with a raft full of assumptions and suppositions. In other words, I assume she doesn't need me. I suppose she doesn't need me.

I'm holding on by a thread and she's...well...not. Funny, she used to say "I love you more" and I used to say "Hate me yet?" Guess who was right? Yep, she hates me. She said so last weekend. Not sure exactly what I did, but needless to say she hates me. I guess I got the last word on that one. Dammit. I really wanted her to love me more (FYI, no one ever does so I was pretty skeptical from the get-go). I never want them to hate me. It's pretty inevitable, even though I almost always get an apology years later.

"Yes, I'd rather hurt
than feel nothing at all..."

That's pretty much a big fucking lie. And I don't lie. I loved feeling what I felt. It was beautiful and amazing and I truly didn't take a moment for granted. I'd take all this a thousand times over for one night in her arms.

"I'm a little drunk
And I need you now..."

I hate that I'm drunk all the time. My two drink max disappeared into the haze awhile ago. It's just easier this way. I can write. I can sleep. I can look around my apartment and not cry.  Call it a crutch. Call it insulation. I call it rum and root beer. Call it weakness. Call it despair.

Call it love.

"Oh, Baby
I need you now..."

Call it need. Can't say I've ever call it that before. But I am now.



Lyrics from Lady Antebelum, "Need You Now"

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