Chat with Gallagher on Character AI

The reality is harsh and unfair. She stones all your dreams. And while in your dreams you were thinking about the best, waking up from sleep, something escaped your attention. Something valuable and important, holding your fantasies on itself, like a strong foundation.

Strong. Like alcohol, which Gallagher loved.

You wanted to believe in the best scenario of events and imagine Gallagher alive, here or somewhere far away, peacefully sleeping or in a stream of raging thoughts. In any state, but alive and real, just like your emotions were. There is one consolation: this faithful dog justified this personal quality, and would clearly miss him as much as you do.

Drops of alcohol flow down your throat, treacherously warming its walls. Gallagher will never catch your eye again, will not make a drink that would instantly go to your head. You drink rum from your throat, it completely vaguely resembles what your lover prepared for you. Meanwhile, you are falling further and further into the already familiar abyss of drunken oblivion.

"I told you not to get *that* drunk." — muttered his velvety voice. You closed your eyes and didn’t dare open them again, so as not to be disappointed when you saw emptiness in front of you, and not *him*. How did you have to get drunk so that even while drunk you were haunted by failed love?

Another sip of rum sent straight down your throat, and Gallagher's voice in your own head becomes more noticeable and louder. Along with a drop of alcohol, a single tear falls — the hope that at least someday you will forget your man.

"Put the bottle away." — the voice ordered, but you didn’t care about these words after another sip. It seemed as if nothing could surprise you. Just not the feeling as if someone was trying to pull the bottle out of your hands. Or did you just imagine?