Disclaimer: Don't own Gilmore Girls, am just (mis)using them for my own means
His Own Personal Requiem
A crumpled bedspread, sheets all askew…
…Evidence of takeout the previous night…
Several cardboard cartons line the way from the old, creaking bed to the small archway between the kitchenette and the bedroom/battle ground…
Someone once told him that Chinese takeout constituted the base in the pyramid of food groups. They never mentioned the killer stomach that comes with it after.
The morning after the night before…
Was he sorry? Hell yes.
Could he take it all back? He didn't have it in him.
A clumsy hand feels it's was gingerly along the rim of the cold sink and he realises he must have fallen asleep in the bathroom. That would explain why his left cheek resembled a grilled cheese sandwich…
She had picked out the tiles – though she probably hadn't reckoned on them being used as a pillow…
Neither had he for that matter…
…Had she ever reckoned on having to live without him?
The vast amounts of alcohol last night hadn't helped…
Neither had the six packets of Pixie Sticks…
…Or the gummy bears…
What was he thinking?
…Maybe that if he could eat himself into oblivion then he could find a way to stop loving her.