***
Well, I drank, and I drank, and in the end I did pass out. And when I woke up I did feel a little better, if only because my body hurt so much racked with all the alcohol that it gave me something else to focus on. So pain can be alright like that, I suppose. The idea is momentarily enticing to me that I could press my finger against a kitchen knife or something until it concentrated my thoughts and I might feel much better then. But I know it’s obviously only a passing fancy, because I couldn’t much stand actually doing that. It’d be the knowledge: I’d look back and cringe in a year’s time that I went and did that over nothing more than a girl. She’s just a girl. She is just a girl. I should remember that more. I need to. And I suppose the whole thing’s melodramatic but f**k it, that
