The lines on my face were getting deeper by the day, the ocean kept rolling in and out pulling sand off of the beach and I was alone again. The woman I had been living with couldn't handle any more of me she was brilliant and mad she cursed and cried every night, she would throw things and shatter windows but she couldn't take me anymore.
It wasn't her fault I had been alone too long, I knew what was out there, how good the world was at destroying so I found a place inside of myself where the destruction came a little easier. She needed someone who needed her too, someone who would sit across from a small table with her in the mornings and tell her how fine everything all was. But it wasn't me.
She packed all of her things into little boxes that I helped load onto the truck. She cried the entire time and I knew if I would've asked her to stay all of the boxes would have been taken off the truck and back into our flat but she took one on the chin by loving me and deserved someone better, new hands new, eyes, someone worth saving. I never saw her again.
My first night alone was rough I had gotten tired of sticking it to the same woman every night so I drank off a bottle of cheap port wine flagged down a taxi and had him take my straight to the bar across town. All the ones on my side of town were too depressing I lived in the slums and the demented and depraved swarmed me like flies. They saw something in me, they liked me but I had to get away.
The bar was an open air lounge set on a patio over looking the city. The music was bad and the people all looked dull and frustrated, there was no fire, they frightened me so I tried to get drunk as fast as I could. At the edge of the bar was a chubby girl of about 20 she was the best I could do so I ordered another beer and had the bartender bring her another of whatever she was having and walked over. Her eyes were kind and the tiki torches lit them well so I sat down and decided to try my luck.
