7 IT WASN'T EVEN...

Lifting my gin to my lips, I reminisce of the good times. Way back when people were too lazy to make featured brothels, when the army was for protecting, and when men weren't... idiots.

I started to think about the girl this was all about, she was amazing, beautiful, and... well, everything to me. But before we get to that, Others only have one match, two if they are lucky, but humans have three. One is an Other, another is a human, and the final? it's a choice. We lowly humans can choice our soul mates. But remember we're still lowly and stupid, so we usually waste our great choosing gift with some stupid person. The girl who left me? The reason I was stuck nursing this gin as the boys partied in a brothel-slash-bar. I wanted her to be my chosen Mate. I was ready to pop the question and fall on one knee while dragging out the ring stuffed in my back pocket, that's when she decide that she couldn't deal with me anymore. This was less than a year ago but it feels like yesterday.

Lately my cop job seems to be held together with a thread as I hold the string, barely keeping it from crashing to the ground below this cliff I'm teetering on. It wasn't even noon yet.

My life appears to be a cycle of empty bottles of beer and broken glasses of gin. My life is literally leading no where.