Whispers in the dark tell me that you're here. I wasn't expecting you to be. I thought you had places to be. But you're here. And that's what matters. That's all that matters. I stretch forwards, achingly, bending in the infinite void between the sheets and the duvet. But somehow, I don't find you and then I know that it was the wind in the curtains, bursting in from the open window.
I stagger to the balcony, almost to drunk to stand. I'm sloshing my drink everywhere. I've already forgotten if it's water or something stronger. Is it something stronger? I sip it experimentally and then toss the rest into the night. It hangs in the air, refracting the streetlights through a golden cascade.
I feel disconnected from the universe. I feel like I am adjoint. Disjoint. Disparate. Is that how you pronounce that? I feel it out again. Dis-ep-ra-teh. No, that's not right I think. I slush out something vaguely resembling words. Still not right. The chair beckons and suddenly I'm sitting.
Doubts are rising. Tears are already in my eyes, streaking my cheeks. Why? Nothing is wrong, right? Am I sad? Why am I sad? I want to scream. I don't understand what's wrong.
Two pale stars blink into being, winking down on me as great eyes. I wonder what they see. There are more, all obliterated by the clouds and lights from the millions of other souls, all equally far away from me. I'm in perfect isolation. The world is a shadow from here. I could touch it to no effect. I could do nothing of consequence.
I feel phased out. I am not of this world. Something more alien flows in my veins. Eyes skip over me. None see me as I am. I do not fit in at all. I'm lonely and sad and drunk. I lift my feet, both bare, gently and rest them upon the balcony rail, curving my spine uncomfortably against the fabric of the chair.
Cold air kisses my skin, exposed by a thin tanktop. I welcome it. It's boiling inside. It always is. My room traps heat to an unreal degree. I wish I had a rock to throw. I bet I could hit the streetlamp from here. I bet I could smash it and for one moment, it would glow like the sun. Wouldn't that be glorious? To be destroyed in a way that you make something beautiful. Wouldn't you like that?
Would I like that? I don't know what I am or what I want. Am I deserving of good things? I try speaking again and fail. Words won't come. Tears will. I'm sobbing, actually, sharp breaths jabbing, everything hurting. I can still hear the voices inside, laughing and cheering and celebrating.
Headphones cover my ears and I lose myself to the music. I do not exist. I am not a person. I do not exist. Let me be happy briefly. Please. Let me. I'll do anything at all. Please. I just want to feel normal. I just want to feel wanted.
I want to stop being how I am. I don't know how to stop though. I never know how to stop.
I want to take another shot. I think I will. Maybe then I'll feel better.
Maybe.