In you she was looking for a reason, an answer, a cure. She was looking for eternal bliss in one night stands and old love letters somewhere in the bottom of beer bottles. Maybe she was drinking to forget but I think she was drinking to remember. Remember when there wasn’t a hole that needed to be filled with booze and men (boys) that didn’t even know her name. She came here to be validated, wanted, to be made feel beautiful. She wanted sonnets whispered into her ears while being pressed into the dark corners of smoky bars that always ended it meaningless flings. She was the tough girl, smart girl, no attachments girl, she was the girl that was up for anything. She was the cocky girl that was actually insecure, the quiet girl who wanted to talk but felt she had nothing meaningful to say, the girl who blamed her attachments on biology, oxytocin, booze. But sometimes you can’t blame it on the booze, sometimes you blame it on the daddy that wasn’t there, the daddy that said “that kid isn’t mine.” Sometimes you blame it on the mother who based her love on how her daughter could sway her hips and flash a toothy smile.
. Or sometimes you blame yourself, because you don’t really care about her at all.