Desire

You catch a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye.  You know from the moment you see her that it was meant to be.  Your family does not approve, they never have.  Not since the first time you went out with her and came back in the morning.  They looked at you with disapproving eyes as if something dirty had happened.  But you know it was different.  The intoxication of being with her. 
The first feeling of desire, the quickening of your breath, how your hands trembled as you touched her.  How would they know these feelings?

They who would never experience life this way.  Trapped by convention and custom in their staid lives.

How they tried to keep you apart.  Like the time when they locked you up when you wanted to be with her and wouldn't let you out.  Little did they know that you would still smuggle her in for the night.  When they found out they dragged you to a room full of strangers and made you confess your desire for her.  As if that was going to help because you craved her like no other.  You met her at fifteen and now only in your mid-thirties do you realise that you have to end this spiral of self destructiveness.  Only you can help yourself move on from this relationship.

So as you saw the bottle of Scotch your heart was saying 'Yes' but your head was saying 'No'.

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