Death-Like Love

(Male POV) I lived by the standard of collect and collect Why so serious? No one can force me to select alcohol then girls is the only routine I had my way of living was something we can say so bad After I got a hangover, I woke up with a knock I stood up and got irritated, only to my shock A smiling old man, with a Bible, spoke to me Gave me a perspective, that I did not see In the real sense, I got sober and woke up I began to understand what I needed to stop I met a friend to help me in this course of changing I never thought he has a name I will start using (Female POV) Nocturnal being, at clubs I was always present Lifestyle was way below being decent Praying for love, and payed for naivety was heading to the grave, can someone save me? I came home to finally rest my tired body so next night, I will be fresh again and ready noticed there's someone at my door waiting I had guess, not familiar, she's just there standing Did not recall the conversation, but she left a card Why would a question hit me that very hard? Will the suffering end? Is that really true? What is the cost so it happens? What should I do?