No matter what station I change to, the music still reminds me of you. Just another sad and lonely night staring at four grey walls. My hands are shaking and tears stream down my face. A sob catches in my throat as Dean Martin sings. He is sitting in a corner, just like me, except, I am all by myself. At least he has a bottle of wine.

I get up and pace around the room. A scream is building in the back of my mind trying to escape. Hands cover my face and nails dig into my forehead. It feels like they are trying to tear my face right off my skull. Suddenly I realise that they are my hands. With great effort I manage to gain control over them. But even then, they look strange, even alien, to my eyes.

I can hear raised voices from the apartment next to me. She is a hooker. She is always fighting with her clients and this is a regular occurrence. I always ignore it, except today, today it seems all wrong. I want to go over there and rip out her tongue. Hell, I just want to kill them both.

I make a move to the door and catch myself in time. I … am … not … a … killer. Over and over I keep telling myself until my blood has returned to normal. No longer a sizzling 110 C. at least it felt that it was that hot.

It is then that I realise that I just cannot live without you. I don’t care what they do or what they say. Not another day shall pass without you.

Before I realise what is happening I find myself on the street heading downtown. It is there that I know I will find you. You will put me out of my misery and once more we will be happy together. In my mind I start singing, “ice baby, ice, ice, so nice.”