Lacking.

Lacking.
Of wine. Am down to the last glass of cheap rose. It's good though.
Lacking.
Of energy. To do something.
Lacking.
Love. 
Lacking.
Self respect.
Lacking.
Me.

Can I crawl back to be miserable and cry how the world is unfair to me?
Please?
Can it please be someone's else's fault?
Please?
I don't want to be responsible for my life anymore.
It appears I'm not capable of doing it.
Or taking care of myself.
Because I know I'm falling down and all I do is just pour myself another glass of wine.
I shouldn't be in charge of my life.
All the decisions I have made.
I shouldn't have been in charge of my life.

Maybe tomorrow.
I'll wake up early and have a good breakfast and start to clean up my apartment.
Maybe tomorrow.
I'll manage to do something with my life.
Maybe tomorrow.
I won't go to the store for another bottle of wine.
Maybe tomorrow.
I'll finally manage to do everything right for me, in my mind hopefully.
Maybe tomorrow.
Maybe.

Red wine and emotions.

That's the perfect combination.
Oh, and add resentment to the mix.
And sorrow.
Beautiful.
Now, take another sip of the wine.
And take a look at his picture.
No tears, just cynical smile.
A year has passed since I was forgotten.
And yes, I still can't quite let it go.
He lives his life to the fullest.
I live in resentment. Anger. Bitterness. 
Piling up my emotions.
Waiting to burst.
Wearing a fake smile.
Wearing a fake "I'm fine" attitude.
It's not about love.
It's about abandonment.
Broken promises.
All the chances, the possibilities that were laid in front of me then.
And now.
Nothing.
I ceased to exist last year.
That's just not something I can easily let go.
Fuck my principles and statements and feelings.
Yes, fuck them.
Where did they leave me???
If I could just move away from here ....
If I could just move ...
No need for punishment. Mine or his.
Just ... move ... away .... 
please ....