Lost Journals

I try to pass on old ways all at once; however, it’s hard. Sitting at the bar watching all those around me fill up with liquid love and I burn for a martini. Yet, I need to avoid love. I need to heal the loves that have already passed through my heart. Move on from the past. Heal the hurt and broken heart before I can seek another: too many years of denying the pain, too many nights in tears.

Where does one find love? I can't imagine another day spent in unhappiness stemming from the bottom of a cocktail: too many cocktail hour heartaches. I want a love without a bottle.