if there is a witness to my little life
and there i was backed-up against the wall, wringing fistfuls of shoddy dark brown blanket. for a fleeting, almost funny moment, i wondered when he had last washed it.
he wasn’t even advancing towards me.
I had flung myself against the wall on my own volition, because even if he was sitting calmly and cautiously at the edge of his own bed, I felt as if he was pushing me.
fresh warm tears on my face reminded me of what i came for.
resitution.
i went there for my final plea.
I went there for my crazydrunkdesperate moment - where I get to breakdown and say things I would never say when I’m sober; things that I can later blame on the alcohol.
what made me lose it: when he said I had to understand that he’s really strapped right now; has a lot of responsibilities to fulfill and that the reason he doesn’t want to commit is because he’s afraid that he won’t have enough time for me.
he said right now he has a lot of problems.
i was able to control myself until the word problems.
i buried my head into his pillow, trying to smother my tears because I’m not a girl who cries. he touched my shoulder gently, trying to turn me over, and I recoiled from his touch as if burned and sat up quick as thunder and backed up against the wall as if he had trapped me.
then I started screaming at him, do you think *i* don’t have problems?
i got mugged and nearly stabbed. i got into a car accident. i live in a country which I fucking HATEHATEHATEHATE. i am 21 and i still don’t have a degree. i don’t know if we’re staying or going or staying or going and if it is one of them no one’s going to warn me it’s just going to happen. i am constantly thrust into unfamiliar situations and all people can say is DEAL. i am broke i am misunderstood and i am running out of time
and we have both lost something that belonged to us
he started to murmur some things I couldn’t make out, or maybe I heard them but I just don’t remember. all I remember was that I was seething and angry and hitting him and he was trying to hold me and I was pushing him away from me and trying to stand up but I kept falling down .
in between my shrieking, I had my head in his trash can.
*
earlier on, in a bar with two friends, drinking beer after beer (and a couple of slammers) until finally the waitress refused to give me anymore. we went on a short joyride and ended up in a gas station. jackie came out of the automatic glass doors, triumphantly waving cans of beer and we used up a few hours sprawled all over old faithful’s car.
that night was supposed to be get-over-him-already night, because get-over-him night had already been used twice to no avail.
but i guess it didn't work because after finishing my umpteenth beer, i snatched old faithful’s phone and called kim.
"i want to see you." i had said in a slurred, determined voice.
"huh? what? where are you?" he sounded as if he just woke up; understandable, because it was two in the morning and he had an early class.
"i'm going there now."
then i hung up.
*
.
he wasn’t even advancing towards me.
I had flung myself against the wall on my own volition, because even if he was sitting calmly and cautiously at the edge of his own bed, I felt as if he was pushing me.
fresh warm tears on my face reminded me of what i came for.
resitution.
i went there for my final plea.
I went there for my crazydrunkdesperate moment - where I get to breakdown and say things I would never say when I’m sober; things that I can later blame on the alcohol.
what made me lose it: when he said I had to understand that he’s really strapped right now; has a lot of responsibilities to fulfill and that the reason he doesn’t want to commit is because he’s afraid that he won’t have enough time for me.
he said right now he has a lot of problems.
i was able to control myself until the word problems.
i buried my head into his pillow, trying to smother my tears because I’m not a girl who cries. he touched my shoulder gently, trying to turn me over, and I recoiled from his touch as if burned and sat up quick as thunder and backed up against the wall as if he had trapped me.
then I started screaming at him, do you think *i* don’t have problems?
i got mugged and nearly stabbed. i got into a car accident. i live in a country which I fucking HATEHATEHATEHATE. i am 21 and i still don’t have a degree. i don’t know if we’re staying or going or staying or going and if it is one of them no one’s going to warn me it’s just going to happen. i am constantly thrust into unfamiliar situations and all people can say is DEAL. i am broke i am misunderstood and i am running out of time
and we have both lost something that belonged to us
he started to murmur some things I couldn’t make out, or maybe I heard them but I just don’t remember. all I remember was that I was seething and angry and hitting him and he was trying to hold me and I was pushing him away from me and trying to stand up but I kept falling down .
in between my shrieking, I had my head in his trash can.
*
earlier on, in a bar with two friends, drinking beer after beer (and a couple of slammers) until finally the waitress refused to give me anymore. we went on a short joyride and ended up in a gas station. jackie came out of the automatic glass doors, triumphantly waving cans of beer and we used up a few hours sprawled all over old faithful’s car.
that night was supposed to be get-over-him-already night, because get-over-him night had already been used twice to no avail.
but i guess it didn't work because after finishing my umpteenth beer, i snatched old faithful’s phone and called kim.
"i want to see you." i had said in a slurred, determined voice.
"huh? what? where are you?" he sounded as if he just woke up; understandable, because it was two in the morning and he had an early class.
"i'm going there now."
then i hung up.
*
.