’12 am’

With disgust, I continue to chug down every drop of alcohol I can take.
The wind begins to pick up and the goosebumps on my arms arise.
It begins to get cold but the alcohol proceeds to keep me warm.
With beer in hand and the thought of you in my head, I begin to let out a sob.
It seems as if I’m waiting for the day you’d say “I miss you too”.
Four words that’ll bring me to my knees.
I look at the phone on the table and check the screen, hoping for a message.
All there is, is the time.
’12 am’, it reads.
Already drunk, I can feel my heart sinking into my chest.
I struggle to sip more alcohol; maybe it’ll provide me superpowers.
Superpowers to get rid of the thought of you.
So I sip some more.
Noises become muzzled and the faces become blurry.
I reach out for my phone once more.
My eyes are bloodshot red this time, making it hard to see the screen.
But there it is; “I miss you”.
With desperation, I look away, is this real?
I take another look at the screen.
but ’12 am’ is all it reads.
’12 am’