Paint it black

Woke up this morning, lit a cigarette and finished the bottle of wine on my nightstand. He was still a sleep, almost dead as his breaths were quiet and his eyelids did not move like they usually do. Maybe he's stopped dreaming while sleeping next to me. Maybe he doesn't care. Maybe he wants out. Worst part is that I've become attached to him, when he wonders of and doesn't return for several hours into the night I miss him terribly and long for his presence, but when he re-returns he makes me want to pull my hair off from frustration. He doesn't like my smoking. He doesn't like my drinking and he sights when I talk about my mother. Amanda stopped by while I was in class yesterday, interrupted my teacher with a nonchalance only she posses and told everyone loud and clear that she needed to speak with me. Most chocking of all - I was aloud to leave the room. She has the most amazing impact on people and after that she grabbed my hand and took for a walk around Notting hill. No words necessary expect for one question and even that was too hard for me to respond to ;

How are you, love?