A Cold Bottle and an Empty Heart

I woke up breathless from a dream I can’t remember. I was on the floor right next to the bed but not in the bed. Something felt off about the room. It was my room but it didn’t seem right. The ceiling was too low and the carpet was the wrong fiber. It felt wrong underneath my palms and in between my fingers. I was propped up on my hands, hoping my dry, tired eyes would focus and my heart would settle. I wondered what the dream was and why was I on the floor?

It wasn’t morning yet and my eyes refused to focus completely. They were so dry they didn’t even want to stay open.  One thing stood out to me in the blurry darkness. It grabbed me by my guts and pulled me toward it. It was the ring. It caught just a glimmer of light. It was on the floor just a few feet away from me. I reached for it and picked it up. It felt cold and refreshing to touch, the gold smooth and the diamond rough. The light from the alarm clock made it seem to glow red. I rubbed it between my finger tips and slid the smooth gold across my dry lips.

It made me think of her, her curves and her breasts. I thought of her lips kissing my neck and the feeling of her small, soft hands on my body. I loved when she was on top of me with her hands on my shoulders and her breasts in my face. I’d have my hands on her ass pulling her into me. I can see it and feel it. I can even smell her perfume mixed with the sweat. My eyes were open but my thoughts were being projected onto the darkness in front of me. I watched her make love to me.

I remembered. She’s gone now. She left me. She left the ring. The memory struck me like a shot gun blast to my abdomen. I let out a moan of pain and disbelief. This is when I saw the bottle. It was on its side, kind of half under the bed. I grabbed it; it was cold like the ring. I held it to my face because it felt good on my skin. I remembered she doesn’t love me anymore. She thinks that I don’t love her either. It’s true, I don’t. I love the idea of her, the idea of having someone who needs me, who I need.

I opened the bottle and I drank. It was whiskey. It felt cold and it tasted good but it burned my throat. My stomach tried to reject it and it started to come back up, but I forced it down and held it there. I finished off what was left of the bottle and tried to get up. I toppled over onto the bed and rolled over on my side.  My mouth was full of that pre-vomit saliva and the room was spinning. I choked down the saliva and touched the wall with my hand to prove to my mind the room was motionless.

I still had the ring in my hand. It made me angry. I wanted to destroy it. I wanted to smash it to pieces. I’m not mad at her, she was right to leave. I’m mad at myself for being so empty and incapable of love. How did this happen? How did I become so cold and isolated? When did my heart disconnect from my body? I’m mad at myself because I realized I will be alone and that’s what I deserve.

I tried to fall back to sleep but the sun and the birds had come out and wouldn’t allow it. I was full of that drunken angry demon energy and went to the computer. I looked at pornography and started to stroke my penis under my boxers. It didn’t feel good but I forced myself to continue because that is what I do. I’m a broken down man who tries to smash himself into smaller pieces.


    1. Thanks Tida. It’s probably going to take me a while to finish writing this book but I’ll post some more chapters up as I go.,


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