Happiness In A Bottle

The words were imprinted on my brain before they had even made it past her lips.

"We need to talk."

We, being her and me. She and I. Us.

"I found this."

The sound of pills shaking in a bottle catches my attention.

"It isn't open."

There she goes, telling me things that I already know.

"You're going to get worse."

She's doing it again. I have no words for her, nothing to say to dispute what she is telling me. I am lethargic and I find it difficult to care that she is trying to help me.

"Are you listening to me?"

I stare up at her with my blank eyes, letting her know that her words are landing on deaf ears.

"Baby, I just want you to be good again."

Slender arms wrap themselves around me, sending warmth coursing through my body. I have no will to respond to her, no want, no need.

I just let her hold me and hope for the best.

We always do.