As you walked out the room, I passed out. You see, those 4 shots of vodka, absinthe and wine were the first thing to pass my lips in 2 days. But that didn't matter to you: I don't think you saw me. It was the Beautiful One you were touching, using up - not me, I was just a body to project your fantasies upon. The Beautiful One is my best friend. I'm in love with her. And he only kissed me, touched me, whispered hoarsely "I want to fuck you so badly", because he can't have her and there I was. Spinning, a million miles away and desperate for someone to touch my bones and affirm I'm still here.