I remember being drunk.
I remember being in someone’s house, someone that I didn’t know, discussing propagation, and the best herbs to grow from seed on your windowsill.
I remember leaving and going home, but I don’t know how I got there.
I remember falling down some stairs.
I remember being put to bed, and the acrid taste of vomit in my mouth.
I can remember the weight of him.
I know that it hurt.
I can remember he was smiling.
I know I was looking at my door, telling myself that I was going to be ok, that you were going to come and save me; that you would take me in your arms, take away the pain, and breathe me into you.

I remember when it was over, I sat and cried and hated you for leaving me.
I don’t know if you ever knew how much I loved you.