Who knows, really, what it means to pepper your seclusion with company, and if you’re truer with or without it. And if you don’t like yourself alone, and if that’s what’s true, is the company you seek out a necessary falsehood tailored for your fight with the stubborn beat, the beat to which the guts inside you drive? If yes, then your friends are weapons with which you battle you. Use them to conquer yourself in halting increments, one drink, one text at a time.
When it’s done, maybe it will be like those nights when you wake up and the room is too dark and for two seconds you forget who you are, and you’d be sure you’re dead except you don’t remember who you is.