A/N - So, I've had a little more time lately the past few days.. So you guys get a new chapter right away :-).This chapter gets a little bit angsty (maybe even a bit cliche), I guess it's just something I've had in me later. I actually really liked the way that this turned out, although it's a tad short. Anyway, thanks to everyone who is reviewing this story. I really appreciate it. Keep it up! And to those of you who aren't... please review? Pretty please with a cherry on top?

It's too late for us. I have to come to grips with that, something I'm currently having trouble doing, as I'm sitting here with a glass of bourbon in my right hand. You used to hate it when I drank. It's not that I was an abusive or mean-spirited drunk, it's just that you knew that I only drank when I was depressed about something. Rather than try to drown my pain at the bottom of the bottle, you always tried to coax me into talking my problems out with you instead. But now, you're nowhere to be found, and that option is dead to me. What would you suggest I do now?

I didn't expect to break the way I did when Sadie told me you had moved to New York two months ago. I had considered the possibility that you might not have wanted to be with me at this stage in your life, but the thought of you being so far away hadn't even entered my mind. Something about your big move sounded so.. Final. It was as if you had closed the chapter on us once and for all.

That's when my downward spiral had begun. I figured that it wasn't worth calling you. If you could move so far away from home, so far away from me... who was I to try and drag you back into the past? But then again, I was handling life fine without you, until you continuously called and dragged me back into the past. You opened up my thoughts and made me consider the possibility of us again. You gave me hope and then you snatched it away. Tell me Jude, what right did you have?

I'm angry to say the least. I can't help but to blame my current situation on you. Something comes over me, something that is enough to make me slide my arm across my dark oak table, causing both my glass and bottle of bourbon to violently shatter on the marble floor. I look down at the shards of glass, and I can't help but to think that the glass is almost as badly broken as I am.

Getting up from my dining room table I stumble over the broken pieces, cursing as my bare foot comes into contact with the stray glass shard. I hobble into the living room, where I pick the glass intrusion out of my foot, before totally disregarding whatever bleeding wound it has created. I slouch on the couch, grabbing the remote to turn on whatever hockey game I could find.

When your image was the first to flood my television screen, I quickly decide that God is playing a really messed up game with me and I shut it off before harshly chucking the remote through the glass front of the television unit. So much for me not being an abusive drunk. My temper continues to get the best of me, as I make my way throughout my apartment, turning over every piece of furniture I own. When I've run out of objects to destroy, I make my way back to the living room and throw my worn out body onto the cool leather couch.

I pinch the area between my eyes, trying to regain some sense of my sober self. When I feel a bit more collected, I lift my head slowly to see the damage I have caused. My apartment looks worse than it might have had a tornado hit. I toss my head back onto the arm of the couch, a loud thud echoing throughout my apartment. I rub the back of my head with whatever strength I could muster, before finally relenting to the dull ache that was triggered.

I stare up at the ceiling. This is what my life has become without you. This is what your actions have turned me into. My vision begins to blur, but I refuse to shed a tear over this. I'm going to be man about this, damn it! A lonely, drunk, ill-tempered, uncontrollable man... but a man nonetheless. This is my last thought before I am finally overtaken by total blackness.