We Keep Coming Back To Each Other Like A Bad Habit

We wake from our sleep. The bed we’ve shared plenty times suddenly feels empty. We drive off laughing and singing. We somehow end up on the avenue by this time I’ve had one too many drinks and I try to forget your touch by embracing a stranger hoping that his warmth will cure the winter inside my heart. No luck, so I turn once again to you.

I’m searching the vicinity. You are nowhere to be found. It is nearing the end of the night and I find you at another bar. Here life seems to move slower although it might have been the alcohol I continued to consume.

Suddenly, I’m pushing myself against you begging you to forgive me for unkind words that had been previously slurred in past drunken messages. You forgave me. This was a constant.

We dance to a couple of 80s songs pretending to love each other again. We leave the tavern holding hands as if the pain we inflicted in each other would suddenly be dissipated into the ocean breeze.

The drive home is silent to remind us of the mistakes we keep repeating. A couple hours pass and like that you’re gone. But like a dirty habit we just keep coming back to each other.