In a sea of swimming fish, lately, I’ve felt like a lobster. 

A bottom feeder creeping, crawling, and clawing my way along. Devouring anything I could get my hands on. Just waiting to get picked, boiled, and broken. They say I’ve got about forty or fifty years; it should feel like I’ve won the lottery. Leaves me to question, Why it doesn’t?

I hope that last day will be admirable, though. In service of someone who’s never had the taste of lobster before. Isn’t that what we all wish for?…

I’ve seen this play out a million times in my mind.

We’re on a small boat floating at sea. A dead silence surrounds us. Tikis hover far in the distance. There’s no waves, but palm trees are slightly waving. Our frozen drinks have umbrellas, just how you like them. You, well, look just like you. Glowing. I can’t see your eyes because we’re wearing sunglasses, but your smile says all I need to know. When I glance over, the sun dances off your nose—reflecting at the perfect angle each time, reminding me that having courage in that moment was a good decision…

Here I am—battered not beaten.

I know something is wrong because it’s nine o’clock in the morning and I’m still in bed. I find it odd that the only thing I want to do is share this with you, which is why I’m typing right now rather than sleeping.

My head is throbbing, and I’m wondering why I let those random girls seduce me into buying tequila shots last night. And then buying more, again and again. Seduction is a powerful thing. You see, I’m still alone. Now this is all I’m left with. A fraction of the man I thought I was. My subconscious reminds me that I should be grateful, though. I can only fight back with, Really?…