Almost was good enough
I spent 3 years loving you, your alcohol addiction, picking you off floors and couches, forgiving your unemployment, and holding you tight every night.
When you decided to move back home to 'find yourself' and leave me in the process, I smiled, helped you pack, gathered your friends to see you off, and now, try to tell myself your vague promises of 'a relationship down the line' weren't said just to hurt me.
I would probably take you back in a heartbeat. But I won't get the chance, because you have thrown it all away.
I hope you find the bottle more comfort than I ever was.