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Why do I keep her picture on the wall? She broke up with me like two months ago. And now I’m drunk again. I’ve been impossibly inebriated for, well, like two months. Actually, I moved her photo from right in front of the computer, where she was looking at me 24/7, to the closet door behind me, but now she’s looking at the back of my head all the time and doubtless thinking, “what an ass, what did I ever see in him, he’s getting bald, he’s looking at porn on the net, my new boyfriend is so much cooler.”
So I’m self-destructive and self-loathing, so what. I keep the picture up to remind me of what might have been, and what might be. Maybe I will be better in the future, not that there is a future the way I’m going. Losing my front teeth in my last suicide attempt was not a smart move, and now they’ve cancelled my Medicaid & I’ll have to go down to Social Services to fix that, and I hate Social Services. I always use some big word (“I would like to eradicate this quandary that I find myself in the midst of”), leading to one of those suspicious stares, like "why you need Medicaid anyway, perfessor?” Because I’m poor and I’m missing some important teeth, and I can’t help it if I’m an asshole self-medicating autodidact with a predilection for drink and goat cheese and cuddling and I keep an 8 x 10 glossy of my ex on the closet door boring holes in the back of my head.
She wasn’t so great anyway (oh god, yes she was, she was better than anyone and I fucked it all up). She was just another girl (she was an angel and a whore, she was all I ever wanted). She thinks about me all the time and is wondering if she should email me (she is buying D batteries at the Wal-Mart). She’ll never see another guy like me, damn her (she has forgotten my name). like I could give a fuck anyway (where did I put my .38?)
Too lazy to go to the liquor store; I’ll go to the hindu deli & get a 6-pack, make it through the afternoon. I put on my sweater & turn around to face her likeness. Hi, baby. I miss you so much.
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J
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gramps
