It was teeth chatteringly cold the night you came over with Elizabeth’s lipstick across your nose. I remember wanting you so badly, it felt foreign. You were drunk and small and your tie was loose. And I felt like crying when you walked in the door. You’d taken my mess as your own and I didn’t know how to receive that. I sent you a photo of a pill bottle, you talked me to sleep. Two days later, when it was just the two of us, I knew I loved you. I knew I’d never really stop.
