Still Feel the Burn

It smells of bourbon, longing, and something all too familiar. Something that always comes back, as soon as you take a sip. The light in the bar is soft, almost homely, but your eyes still search for someone - not the person next to you, but the one who stayed in the past, where that very song is still playing. The glass clinks against the bar, the ice melts, and it seems like the pain should go away with it - but it doesn't. It doesn't go away. It just gets quieter, like ashes after a fire. And it's funny: you try to forget, but instead you remember even more strongly.