Drunk Man Walking

"Now can I see your pain, I'm sorry. Goodbye."
My voice broke. "But - You can't do this. No, baby. Please. I fucking swear I care!" The tears where running freely. I muffled a sob, trying to keep calm.
"Goodbye." She said again, I could hear the pain in her voice too... This was hurting her as much as it was hurting me. I had broken her heart and now... Well, now I was paying for it. Tenfold.
"No baby, please. You can't - I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry! Baby please! We can work something out." I rambled, not knowing what I was actually saying, but saying it anyway.
"Goodbye, Dean."
CLICK.
"...please?" I threw the phone down. It was no use. She'd done it. When I needed her most. She'd done it, broken up with me. There were tears flowing down my cheeks. Warm and wet, salty and painful.

I cried myself to sleep.

When I woke up the next morning, I remembered the pain of last night. In my bedroom, I sat in the dark. I could hear my neighbours leaving for work. I could hear their kids watching TV before school.
I stood up, opened my bedroom door. The light was so bright, I blinked a few times before I could see anything. God, was it always this bright? I stumbled into the kitchen. Half eaten meals on the side, half drunk drinks on the table. No wonder she broke up with me, I'm a slob. Fuck this.
I wrenched open the fridge. Inside were four beers. Not enough, but a start. I slammed open every cupboard door. In the cupboard under the sink I found a bottle of whiskey, a bottle of vodka and a jumbo pack of fags. Perfect.
I grabbed both bottles, the fags, the beers and a glass. I stumbled back into my bedroom. I turned on my TV, the morning news. I crawled into bed and cracked open a beer.
Sipping it, I thought about her. She was beautiful, kind and funny. But she knew it, she knew I wasn't good enough. She cheated on me, how many times I don't know. But whenever I confronted her about it she always made ME feel like shit. I didn't do anything. She was the one who cheated, stole and lied. I lent her over a thousand bucks, and she stole a lot more. She was a - Forget it. I sipped at my beer. The news was just noise.

I woke up again. I checked the clock, 1:59, am or pm? It didn't matter. I poured myself another whiskey and went back to sleep. I couldn't think of a reason to get the fuck out of bed.

I opened my eyes. I couldn't see. The lights where off, the curtains closed. Am I alive or dead? I grabbed a fag, lit it and sat in the dark.

My head was pounding. The time was 6:20. I turned the TV back on.
".....And more news on the fatal car crash on Tuesday night...."
Ugh, I pulled the bed cover over my head. I didn't care.

BANG BANG BANG
"HEY! DEAN!"
I surfaced.
"YO DEAN"
Fucking hell, Matt.
"OPEN UP!"
"...no...." I mumbled as I pulled the duvet over my head again.
"DEAN!"
"No,"
"OPEN THE DOOR!"
For fucks sake....
"NO!"
"DEEEAAANNNN!"
I picked up my jeans, pulled them on and stumbled to the front door. I wrenched it open.
"WHAT! WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT MATT?!"
Matt was standing, shocked, in the doorway.
"Um..."
"Fuck off Matt."
I shut the door. As I ran back to my bedroom I wondered what I looked like. I walked into the bathroom and turned the light on, for the first time in a week.
"Shit..."
The guy in the mirror looked terrible. Huge bags under his eyes, stubble on his chin and a split lip. This wasn't me, It couldn't be.
I'd changed so much.