Falling in love with you was a lot like getting drunk. It all happened so fast; I had no idea what I was doing at the time or what the consequences would be. All I wanted was to feel good. And, God, it felt so good. Of course, things got out of hand before I could stop myself. I wanted more and more of you, just like I always want more alcohol. But alcohol isn’t always enough to make you happy. And more often than not, the effects of it have you lying face-down on the pavement. Just like love. Now, I’d like to think of myself as hungover. Not because I fell out of love with you, no. But because I still have some alcohol, some of you, left in me. And I feel ruined because of it. I feel like vomiting all the time, and I have a massive, eternal headache. The difference between this feeling and an actual, legitimate hangover is that I think I’ll be feeling this way for a long, long time.
I’m hungover you, but I’ll never be over you.