I'll Meet You Half Way.
This is easy. To put it in the box of assholes that I've collected.
This is simple. To write it off to bad, and remember the fights and screaming and hurt.
I am capable of letting this go now, of letting it pass, and move on.
Because somewhere, someone owns Two Rooms, just so they can listen to Sting sing Come Down In Time.
. . .
The cold makes everything feel harsh.
. . .
I can't finish this drink, and that means I need to go to sleep.