One More

I sit at the computer, typing, trying to escape. I hear you, though – every single word. You think you're invisible to the world. Music can't drown out the sadness or anger I hold in my heart for you. I try to lose myself in the moment, savoring the peace and quiet.

It's hard, you know. It's hard to listen to your voice get louder. The slur of your words makes my skin pucker, my heart beat faster, and a frown return to my face.

I don't need to see the amber-colored bottle to know you've been drinking. I don't have to smell the strong odor of alcohol or see the glassy glaze in your eyes. You're not you anymore because drinking has become you.

I'm so tired of it – the constant fighting, the upsetting situations. I'm physically and mentally exhausted.

I'm strong though. I'll survive, even as you take one more sip.