White Merlot

The wine used to make her feel better. It kept her giddy until morning. Then it all changed. Now she clenches her teeth. When it's bad, her neck tenses up and her shoulders hunch like some kind of turtle. Then she'll have to lay down. Tears pour out of her tightly shut eyes. The knot in her stomach expands and rises until the first sob bursts from her lips. Then she can't stop. She clutches her knees in hopes that she can somehow stop, like bending a hose, but she just can't seem to stop it. Her stomach hurts. She can't breathe. She doesn't know why she does this to herself. It's not the wine. It's her. Sometimes it just feels good to cry. You know?