pinot nior and a moon that should be full

how is it that i do this to myself.

i spend all night getting ready and looking perfect putting on the naughtiest things under my pretty dress with just a touch of my $130 perfume on my neck, fixing any chips in my nail polish, and sitting perfectly still as to not cause a wrinkle or a hair to fall out of place, waiting to hear back from a man who has me on strings. my heart in his pocket.

just for him to tell me four hours later he has business to handle and he will get back to me in a bit. when that bit passes i come to find he drank too much and cannot get me.

what is so wrong with me?

my hope is wearing thin, of love. and my heart is dissolving.

i dont know how much more i can take.

love.love