This Is My Love

I pulled the bottle away from my lips and sighed as Pete's voice began to ring out through the house from the answering machine.
"Ano, please answer the phone. I know you're there. It's been two days and I miss you." It went silent for a moment, but I could still hear his quiet breaths coming through the speaker.
"I broke up with Natasha right after you left. Things were never serious with her anyway." Silence again.
"Please call me...I love you."

The beep of the answering machine blared loudly before there was absolute silence once again. I brought the bottle of tequila back up to my lips and took another large gulp, wincing slightly as the fluid ran roughly down my throat to sit warmly in my stomach. After a moment, I sighed and placed the bottle down on the table beside me. I felt defeated.
Usually, getting wasted would numb the pain and get rid of my thoughts, leaving me to have a couple hours of blurred nothingness in my mind, but this time, it was different. The alcohol was only bringing more attention to the problems, and making me feel even worse than I did before.

I grabbed the neck of my cherry red SG electric guitar and slid it up my body before propping it up on my thigh. I grabbed the pick out of the strings and placed my fingers in their designated spots on the neck before twisting the volume knob and sloppily strumming out a single chord. The volume was up as loud as my ears could take, and the vibrations of the note shook the windows in their flimsy frames before dieing down again.

I slowly sat myself up from my prior slumped position, bringing my guitar with me. I then began to play again, but this time, it was a slow, improvised blues lead. A series of painful notes that flowed from my heart, down to my fingers. I spoke words with these notes, and told a story of sadness and heartache in a language that only I could understand. I told a story of self loathing and anger for letting one man cause me so much pain with so little effort. But, most of all, I spoke of my longing for Pete.

I closed my eyes and let my fingers flow freely about the neck of the guitar, pouring my heart out into the music like I do every time I pick up an instrument and make the transition from music being my life, to my life being music.
I sat there for 15 minutes, and could have gone longer, but the ringing of my door bell interrupted me. At first, I didn't hear it over the amplified notes of my guitar, but once the ringing became continuous, I silenced my guitar and looked towards the door. The door bell rang one more time and I sighed. I hated when I was interrupted while playing, especially when I was deep into it.

"I'm coming!" I hollered towards the door as I turned down the volume knob of the guitar and placed the instrument down beside me, propping it up against the arm of the chair. I slowly pushed myself up and tried to ignore the head rush that almost caused me to fall back down before steadying myself and stumbling towards the door.
"Fucking tequila gets me every time," I chuckled, using the wall of the hallway for a crutch as I made my way towards the doorway.

I swung the door open and looked up to examine the nuisance only to find the one man who I have been trying to avoid.
"What are you doing here, Pete?" I questioned as I tried my best to straighten out my posture, but I wasn't fooling him. Pete and I used to get wasted together all the time, and he knew that I had been drinking... A lot.
He pulled his eyebrows together.

"You've been drinking," he stated in a matter of fact kind of tone. I laughed as I held onto the doorway to keep myself from swaying back and forth.
"Yeah, and you didn't answer my question," I retorted. He cracked a smile as he examined me, looking at every piece of my outfit, before returning his eyes back to me.

"I wanted to see you," he finally answered. I lowered my eyes to the ground and sighed.
"I told you I'd call you if I wanted to see you."

"But I couldn't take that chance. I needed to see you. I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you," he responded quickly to my statement.
I didn't know if it was the booze, or just how sexy he looked in his fedora at that moment, but I was caving in. Honestly, I wanted to see him just as much as he wanted to see me, but it was a matter of principle. Of course, the tequila was making me care less about principle.

Suddenly, I began to feel dizzy. The tequila was now coming back to bite me in the ass. My hand flew up to my head and I began to sway back and forth before feeling my knees buckle beneath me, causing me to fall over. I squeezed my eyes shut as I toppled, so sure that I would be hitting the ground at full force, but it never happened.
I opened my eyes to find my upper body in Pete's arms as he smiled down at me.

"Ano, you know what too much cheap tequila does to you," he chuckled as he straightened us out and placed an arm behind my thighs before lifting me off of the ground, now holding me bridal style against his chest. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes as I let out a quiet laugh.

"Yet, I just can't stay away," I responded to his earlier statement as he carried me into the house and shut the door behind us before whispering down to me;
"I know the feeling."