A bottle of wine

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I bought a bottle of wine. I wanted to get drunk ... or at least get drunk. To diminish your senses. I could not open the bottle. I had to push the cork plug inside the bottle. Then, when I poured myself, I spilled wine on the bed, and when I decided to change the sheet, I spilled the full glass. Now I have half a bottle, half empty. I cried. For the half-empty bottle and my half-life. Now I can not even drink ... And he only thinks about me when he's drunk. I thought I'd forget it if I got drunk. Now how do I forget? And how can I forgive that I remember, remembering it exactly, thinking exactly about it, I want it right? I promised to stop hurting. I promised never to break my heart anymore. And I'm doing just that. How can I forgive him? I could hate him so I could blame him ... It would have been so easy. The next person in my life who disappoints and surrenders me, who abandons me. Just that he never promised anything, never wanted anything and never gave it. I gave him my own heart without even telling him. I gave him to him myself, and he crushed him because he did not even know he was in his hands. Here I said, I'm guilty. That's why I wanted to drink, to forget. But the bottle is almost empty, and my mind is still sober and feverish. For lost, unrequited, unleavened and spilled wine ...

Much love - Krisii

photo source - https://pixabay.com

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