(pointless post ahead:)



i. Do I miss you?

Of course I do.

ii. Do I miss my old days?

To be reckless and to not give a fuck, to drink to please my friends, to dance and step on anyone in my way, to sing and shout like there's only me in my world

At one point, I stopped controlling



What had started out as a once in a while affair, quickly escalated into a mess of weekly music, alcohol and dizzy cab rides. I left house looking proud and sultry. I come back semi-drunk and in a mess.

At one point, I stopped caring.



I started to overdrink. My mum called me on my phone, and when my friend passed it to me, I realized at that moment in time, I completely forgot there's anyone else in the world but me. I forgot my own family.



At one point, I got worse.

I decided nothing was worth anything anymore and I drank my nights away. Even on days when the clubs are closed, I kept my dates to a schedule to make sure I got my tequila hit everyday.



At one point, I broke.

I saw a guy who looked like you. Then, I saw a guy who dressed like you. Then, I saw a guy who sounded like you. It drove me fucking insane, which meant I fed myself more and more drinks to dilute it away.



At that same point, I woke.

I knew I was done.

I was guarding a female friend, and in the midst of her drunkness, I saw absolute clarity. The way people behave in clubs, the way they influence to live life for the night, the way this place devour morals.

No.

I wanted out.

I needed to know I could get a grip on myself and not further lose myself to this night addiction. I knew I needed to snap out or risk tripping into that abyss. I knew I couldn't afford to lose myself anymore.

For the entirety of the period I was clubbing, I lost touch with all my close guy friends because I came to be subdued by the fact that all guys are only periodical. They refresh themselves after 2 months, why give a fuck. I kept my girlfriends at an arm's length. I feel ill and depressed and miserable and I didn't want to impose.

I was a wreck - waking up only to pray the night falls so I can forget again. I was a mess - consuming myself with sad stories and memories to cry myself to sleep. I was a complete fuck up.

No.

No longer.

I've been club-less for a month and more now. I listen to escapades and drunk stories. I feel my club beats enticing me on my earpiece. I ache to feel the high of my old tequila and belvedere.

Do I miss that lifestyle?

Of course I do.

But for everything that lifestyle can give me, it cannot give me you.

iii. Do I miss you?

Of course I do.

iv. Do I have chances of getting better?

Of course I don't.

See, I wanted to type "do". Because I'm a poetic little bitch and it has to follow the frame I've set from the start. But by no intention, I added "don". I backspaced. And my fingers typed "dot". I backspaced. "Don't" really seems to be the correct fit, doesn't it?

Abrupt end because it's late and my thoughts are at sundown.