the importance of sangria to the dieties of coping.
i'll pour another glass, and you'll tell me how you know how i feel. we'll feel it together, without them, because of them. tell me how, because i've been talking for quite some time without any substance to back up my decisions.
i'm building worlds with these words, these elaborate fantasies of how it will be a year from now. honey, it's all i've got right now, and i know you won't take it away from me. you're giving me momentum and those small details to add to my collection for what will happen when i finally leave this country, this time ... when i won't talk to any of you for weeks.
raise your glass, sangria skimming the very edge ... testing gravity ... here's to burning bridges, because i've got to get away from the ones that were destroyed without permission, because the past hurts more than now, because distractions are too easy, because this pain has no relief, because numb feels better than this, because i can't do much anymore.
the importance of fantasizing and romanticizing can't escape us.
so thank you for knowing when to grab me, shake me, and pour me another glass of that deep red sangria.
