Where pride begins, love ceases

It's so hard at the end of the night.

i was winning all day.
i had won.
the day was mine.
it was a slow-motion shot of the winner breaking through the ribbon at the finish line, looped over and over again.
She's already begun to lift her head and arms to the sky triumphantly; moments before the ribbon snaps helplessly against the crushing force of victory
and
the audience is going wild---clapping their asses off.

I can do this.
This isn't hard.
I've done this before.

iwon' tl ety o uhur t m e.


But what does it matter if you're going to inevitably lose horribly at the end of every night?


The footage is looped and no one is watching it.

It hurts.

I am the defeated, watching it alone in a dark room.

And no matter how many times you watch this small victory,
you will eventually turn it off,
return to your room,
hit the lights,
and curl up alone.


do i need you?
or do i just need somebody?