Anything Goes : The Lost Muse by Jason Elia

"You're an irrational, emotional, drug addicted, alcohol dependent disaster adept at facilitating his own reality. And you're easily the most brilliant person I've ever met. But you're a fuck up anywhere but on paper and I can't love words anymore." The truth is the ugliest thing in the world. I think that's why we all lie so easily as humans. We want things to be beautiful even amidst the ugliness. I wish she would've lied, but being true to the woman I fell so helplessly in love with she didn't. She was the one the person I truly feared. I had shared all my truths with her and she used them. Breaking the heart I had never shared before. In the past 2 years I've done exactly what I'm best at. I wrote. Every word and sentence an attempt to reach her. Hoping she might hear me, whether it be TV or book. An occasional article or blog she reads one day. I am by no means successful at my craft, but I do make a living doing it. Putting pen to paper or fingertips to keyboard. I've fucked countless others, loved another. But at the end of the day she's always my last thought. The first thing I see when I close my eyes. Bringing about the fear of sleep from which I often suffer. So its the vices that she hated, to which I reach and rely. Retooled to hopefully make the memory of her die. But more often I find myself imprisoned in a tiring sleep. Waking only when I smell her scent faked by an imposter I defiled in a meaningless attempt to avoid a night alone. Leading always and only to an awkward first cup of coffee. To me she is lost. My first of a life I now loathe.