Let go

Half a bottle of wine sits inside my closet. I set out to finish it with him once but we never did. I remember I was drinking more of it that he and got avid of taking it home and drinking the rest. As I got home, I immediately hid it in the closet with my mood not wanting to see the site of it. Days has passed and I realize only the idea of drinking at home was what excited me. It sits being turned into something undrinkable. I will drain it soon enough, just trying to find the time and strength to do it.