Thought of you as everything I've had but couldn't keep

He's in front of the mirror getting ready like it's our first date and we're sixteen dans La Ville-Lumière. I finish his Champagne because he's too busy with his hair and he returns to an empty bottle. "I like you better drunk" he says and slides his hand up my dress, but he does it like a gentleman in cufflinks and a pinstripe suit.

The last days of this year have felt like the end of the world, but I guess they always do. My vision is blurred, I can't imagine anything beyond December but with him there's no immediate need to pretend. Walking these streets in daylight I feel like screaming till the air in my lungs is wasted, but when the sun sets I put on something black and he comes home and we drift away together, even after what he said to me a week or so ago.

I don't drink to forget because there's still too much I want to remember. I drink because the world and this life we're living makes a little bit more sense when spinning itself out of focus before our pale blue eyes.