Gloria

She was drunk. She was already slurring her words, as she sang Jar of Hearts for the nth time, ignoring the other songs I've lined up for her.

"Hey, let's play something more upbeat. Titanium? Survivor?" I suggested, but she just kept on belting out the same song. I lay down on the sofa, thinking that it was going to be a long night.

She lay her head on my shoulder and placed her palm on my chest. "It hurts here, Sean. I can't breathe." I knew she was beyond consolation, but I had to at least try.

"I know," I whispered, as I placed my hand on top of hers. I asked if she remembered when I was the one who felt broken.

"Yeah, you were such a crybaby then," she giggled. I smiled.

I pressed her tiny hand firmly against my chest and brought both of us back. To that time when I'd always suddenly tear up. When even breathing hurt. And how I thought the pain would never go away.

I was just about to go into this speech that would miraculously pull her out of the darkness, when I heard her gentle snoring. I took the microphone from her hand just as Gloria Gaynor came on. "You'll be ok," I whispered.

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