He couldn't think straight. Pictures of better times flooded his memory. When he tried to focus on the present, everything got blurry, as if these memories were overriding everything else. He knew that when he thought of everything the way it had been and compared it to what it had become he would let the pain take control.

He sipped his drink slowly, wrestling with the idea of loneliness. It was a concept he once loved. Knowing that he could be alone and not have to worry about someone else or deal with the burden of another. Things had changed. She had invaded every aspect of his life. His senses, feelings, thoughts, and actions were hers. When he thought it was all over she restarted it. When he thought he thought the coast was clear, rain clouds began to accumulate.

"I hate you," he whispered, his bottom lip still touching the edge of his glass.

He knew he didn't mean it. That didn't change the fact that it felt good to say. If anything, it was his fault things had become the figurative train wreck that they were. He didn't care.

"I hate you," he repeated. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back so the burning liquid could flow faster down his throat. In two gulps it was gone. Hs set the glass down on his coffee table and stood up.

Tears filled his eyes as he clenched his hands into fists. He clutched his hands together so hard his arms began to tremble.

"I hate you!!" He screamed as loud as he could, kicking the coffee table over. His throat hurt from the sudden outburst. Broken glass covered the carpet. He unclenched his fists and opened his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his face wet. He walked into the bathroom.

He stood at the sink, staring at his reflection in the mirror. The dark curls of his hair had fallen down across his face, some stuck to the trails of tears. He opened the medicine cabinet and grabbed a small vial of pills. He closed the cabinet and filled up a glass of water. He stared into his reflection again.

"I hate you."

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