Sweet little kisses

Sweet little kisses.

Despite what some may think of me, I really love life. It’s true, I have to remind myself of it from time to time. But I’ve had some exceptionally good friends. I’ve had good women too. And I’ve loved all of them. I’ve got good hair and a nice smile and nice eyes. I may spend too much time alone. Drink too much alone. I haven’t slept in my bed weeks, but my couch offers a better slumber. Even then, I wake with bags under my eyes. But I love the night. I love sad songs. And I hold onto the little things longer than others might. I buy the same shoes over and over. The best of my friends have died, all too young. Yes, it’s sad and causes deep pain and loss and regret. It’s been years since I’ve laughed like I would when they were still here. The best cat I’ve ever had has also died. But I am still here and I still talk to them when I’ve had enough to drink to make it feel as if they are almost still with me. My heart does fill and becomes heavy with sadness when I stumble into the bathroom and I look at myself in the mirror. I see that they are not actually with me and I am just drunk and alone. But they were once here. I hear their voices. I pour more to drink. There is no work tomorrow. No reason to shut out the light or to stop drinking. Spring has returned and summer will follow soon. There will be another good woman again. She’s out there somewhere now. I’ll make her laugh. I’ll get her to think. She will want to hold me. She will kiss me and I will make love to her. And then she will be gone too. But I will still be here, until I am no longer. And my son will miss his old and foolish father. But that is many years from now. Tomorrow I will get a hair cut. I’ll have showered in the morning. Found a cup of coffee. Stop for lunch. The sun will be hot. L.A. and Hollywood will churn on and on. I am happy and lucky to have been here at all. I know that behind the flesh and bone of my chest, my heart beats. Somewhere far out in deep space there are stars and more suns being born and dying too. There are black holes swallowing up entire galaxies. And all the while, I am still here, drinking. Listening to more sad songs. Smoking cigarettes. And thinking of you.


About magnumturtle

I write fiction.
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