Saturday night stuff.

Sometimes when I'm drinking I still want you. More accurately, I want to talk to you, I want to send you a Facebook message casually asking how you are.

But you won't answer. Not anymore. I don't know why, but you won't.

And I need to let that go.

But when I'm drinking I want to feel hope, and acknowledging that you won't answer me is like admitting that there is no hope.

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[I believe in a thing called love]