Broken up, again

This heart's already been broken. Broken up, broken in. We single ladies like to imagine ourselves as wild horses, as fast and carefree as what I imagine the wind is like on the prairie planes. At least, John Wayne's fine figure and whip-around hair seemed to show off wild winds like that. No, it's just loneliness that I feel right now. There's no more "Andri and ...". No texts or missed calls on the phone. I'm not waiting to get away from home with anyone. It's just me, sitting here, wondering if tonight will be any different from any other night. TV. Aimless driving trying to figure out something to do. Yeah, they're all the same. This takes me back to middle school, actually. I'm now living in the same room I had back then, and I can remember all those nights I imagined what it would be like to have friends. I fantasized about boyfriends, though my imagination couldn't stretch far enough to see that kind of thing happening. It's the same solitary one-ness that I have right now as I had back then. By now I should have made myself a fortress of some kind of friendship, something impervious to changing boyfriends. I should have been kinder, and wiser, to all the people who tried loving me and just ended up rejected. This childhood hell I'm living in right now, maybe I deserve it. I just don't know where to go from here. I can't see a pathway back up, but I guess I'll just have to force my way. Throw up some ropes, dig out some stairways, something. There's always a way, right? I just need some time.

I just need some whiskey.