Way back Then

I know, bringing up those "good ole days" seems like a bad idea. You don't want to hit a rough patch, but you just might. See, these days I like to be reminded of who I was. It makes me stay human those times when I'm not completely sure of who I am. What you also assume is that I don't remember, which in fact I do.

It wasn't like I was in a fucking coma, I was a drunk, I get it. You don't have to spoon feed me little white lies everytime I glance your way. I know of the past and I know what we had back then. It was so easy wasn't it? To just run around like a cople of fools, idiots we were, but I like to just think of us as kids.

Like all kids, we sort of fell for one another, and it wasn't like some "holy shit I love you" sort of deal. It was more of a "wow, this person actually held my hair as I vomited on their couch. Cool." And yeah, I do remember the time we had sex. Admit it, we had a fucking awesome night together. A few nights to be exact.

Then there was a point where I just stared in the mirror. I was almost thirty now and I had to get my head on straight. And fuck all those who told you I was "moving on". I had my heart set on you for the past fucking decade and no one in this world could change my mind.

Stability. Fuck the word, it drove us out of our drunken stupor and into a never ending stream of lies. And not big ones, no just those tiny little fuckers that eat at you. Life was one big hangover and it sucked balls. And all you did was just treat me like those years were blank.

You had lied to my face the day you grew up. Suddenly kids and family were on the menu and I was your best friend again. You let me now lay in a puddle of puke and tend to your adult duties.

And as I hear your name being called I mutter a "Get it fucking together Frank" under my breath and relax. Besides, who cares about what happened way back then?