The phone rang. I answered. It was him. Astounded, overjoyed, I listened. Oh God. My mind raced. My heart beat so fast. Pounding, pounding... it was an invite... all of us together... dinner... at his place.
I was in shock. I closed my eyes. Disbelief resounding through me... I hung up the phone and collapsed on the floor. The floor so hard, my body so numb, still.

But then...

My blood rushed inside and I awoke. Rose from the grave that had been haunting me all this time. And suddenly I felt it. Just then. That was it. That was the moment. The one that sparked hope in me once more. The one that sent me spinning. In a whirlwind of dreams. Fanciful. Ecstatic. Joy everlasting...
Everything was right. Surreal. I couldn't eat.... or sleep... or anything... Tomorrow. Tomorrow, it would be perfect. All the people I care about, together. My love... next to me at the table. Smiling warmly. Sneaky feet. Laughter everywhere. Food eaten... delicious... good wine... stories and music and friendship devine...

But then...

When daylight came, it brought the darkness with it. My best friend in tears. Her love broken. Finally. Forever. I reached out, my hope keeping me afloat. Keeping her afloat, somehow too. Today would be the day. A good day. A day for happieness. My perfect day.

But then...

The phone rang. I answered. It was him. There wasn't going to be a dinner. He was too sick from drink. Bastard. I was shattered. Hurt beyond words. How could he do it? Disappoint me again. I am fallen. Far gone.
Over and over.