Your hands around my throat

What you did to me makes me want to cry. Especially when I’m drunk. And I want you to know that. I want you to know how terrible you make me feel, through your selfish, thoughtless actions. I can still feel your hands around my throat.

his hands

Alcohol is great. It gives me confidence. Everyone is my friend, a potential friend. Do I have a lighter, sure I do. I mean, what a great way to pull, lighting your throatful of sambuca on fire. And dancing.

I see, really, truly, only men. I mean, I see women, lots of them, and they see me. But right now, it is only men. I single him out, my target. He has one of those long-sleeve t-shirts with a white torso, and dark sleeves attached at a diagonal. You know what I mean. There must be a name for that type of top. And his stomach sticks out a little, in a cute way, not a fat way. And he has a little goatee.

But I am not fast enough. There’s no time for waiting around in this game. No, she got there first. But that is ok. Because everyone is my friend. Everyone. And it feels good. And I’m happy. Sort of. Or at least drunk enough to not feel sad.

Red wine. Jamaica beer. Tequila. Sambuca. Rum. Hiccups. Rum has given me hiccups.

The decision to leave is one that acknowledges that I don’t have to pull every single time I go out. And it is such a long walk home.

I can’t afford the time or the money really. Especially not the money. But I pay it, because it means for a few hours I can forget everything, especially you.

Let’s assume I were never to get over you. What would happen then? Does that thought concern you, because it does me.

I fell in lust with you, you heartless woman, and that’s just how it is.

I am now, a different person, because of you, and everything that happened. Your strangle-hold, still grips, tightly. But it must be good. It must be a good thing. Because I know who I am now, more than I ever did before.


Who I am, I am a mess. The mess you made and didn’t tidy up. And I will be forever laughing at my lack of responsibility, for me, for myself.

You realise as you get older, parents are just people. They don’t know what they’re doing, nobody does.

And you, especially, had no idea what you were doing. You’re just an idiot. Who made someone else cry. And I must be sick in the head because I really wish I could make you cry too.

Death in Vegas – Hands around my throat

make you cry

8 thoughts on “Your hands around my throat

  1. OK Rebecca, I am going to take a while to understand this one…..the woman part I understand, she is your ex, surely. My goodness you are so wounded, and I am so sorry about that, that anyone could hurt someone as amazing as you.

    But the goatee guy, who on earth is he? And the parents part….well, ok, good to forgive, but not sure what they did. Sorry my brain is not in decrpter mode. Actually my brain is in stupid non functioning mode. I am sorry I did not get this one….I will have another go later, I promise. But I want to read your Placebo post, and you know why….

    • I understand your confusion, everything gets a bit jumbled up in my writing.

      First thing to clarify, no it’s not my ex. I’m totally and utterly over that (in a good way, everything is fine in that regard).

      No, it’s just a woman who I stupidly got obsessed with, via the internet, and messages. We’ve never even met in the flesh. She meant a lot to me and has cut off all contact, and I’m having trouble coming to terms with it. I don’t think it’s her, per se. I think I may just be projecting other things onto her and have got myself in a pickle.

      The guy, he was just a cute guy, no story there.

      And the parents. That is perhaps the most difficult thing. I was meaning hands around the throat in a metaphorical sense with regard to the woman, I feel she had me in a position of, well yes, like that. Which I enjoyed immensely.

      But also, I have literally had the hands around my throat with the parents and I guess that is where everything has got a bit mixed up. I say parents, it was my dad’s hands, but my mum saw, and did nothing, backed him up, made excuses for him. So that is why I say parents.

      I’m not sure what I’m projecting or how. Anyway, yes the guy was really cute.

      Thanks for taking the time to read this, you helped me realise something, possibly.

  2. God, love that song….what a band (I never heard of them). Well, do tell me to be quiet when you want me to stop (you know you can do that anytime, don’t you?). The internet chick, well, forget her – I wrote “bitch” but then I wiped it out….well, she was not nice to you, so you know what I mean. Not nice person. Forget her as you have managed to delete that ex of yours (so proud of you – you were suffering with that a little while ago).

    I guess it is the parent thing that sticks though. That is a shocking image you painted there, even with the soundtrack. She did let you down, yes she did. And you are processing that, and it is hard – and now I see those dreams in a slightly different light I guess. O I could be completely wrong, Rebecca, so easily wrong. It sounds awful no matter which way I see it….and of course you are psychic….special talent of yours….*hugs and kisses and wishes for any kinda human meat you need to drown out the alcohol*

    • Thank you 🙂 *Cries a little bit, in a good way, well, not really*

      I know it sounds a bit daft, but this is all as much news to me as it is to you. Take, seeing the dreams in a different way… me too.

      What I mean is, it is not something I had thought of particularly, until now.

  3. Well, I send you all my love and hugs and whatnot internet stuff. You are feeling raw this month generally. But just these last few days you seem to be really hurting. Maybe stuff you have pushed back is coming forward to be dealt with. I know what you mean about things being like that. I have just been going over stuff I thought I had sorted….but it keeps coming back, only each time it seems to me I have a new take on it. I hope that is what is going on for you. I just find you amazing. As if that helps….but well, you never know…:)

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