Done [part 2]

just be done w all their bullshit, everyone else’s. not have to deal w their lies and excuses. their pathetic reasoning and pointing the finger at you for fucking up first. like it’s your fault they were a bad friend; they got sick; their dick ended up inside someone else’s – not just once though, oh no. No, it was more than a dozen times. bc its your fault they cheated on you. for an entire fucking fuck. that they had an affair w someone else. that stye had a RELATIONSHIP w someone else. while they were supposed to be w just you.

its your fault.

it always is.

because apparently everything is.

its already my fault that i can’t handle being in college and juggling only 3 fucking classes and am now failing all of them. its already my fault that I’m a failure and a half for my mom. not my dad though, he thinks I’m perfect. I’ve emailed him about this beautiful prefect clever girl who get straight As and can handle being in several different ezra curricular including starting new organizations.

he think I’m perfect.

no.

he thinks I’m my brother.

I can’t put all my happiness on Elias. i know that. and i don’t. or i try not to.

i really do try not to.

but I’m not enough

for anyone.

my mom.. elias.. sophia.. especially my dad tho.

I’m just not enough. i never am. i wish i could be, but I’ve never been enough for them.

not good enough or smart enough or skinny enough or pretty enough or nice enough or hard working enough or thoughtful enough or funny enough.

just not enough.

Taking it slow

I just don’t understand how people do it. 

We’re getting back together or at least trying to but were “taking it slow”.

How do you do that though? I don’t even know how to start from the beginning w Elias. How do you go from spending every single night w someone to only sporadically.

We say I Love You a million times a day to each other, over text and in person. But then now I’m in the hospital and I don’t even know how to ask him to come and stay w me here.

He’s like a stranger I know as well as I know the back of my hand, but still a stranger. 

Idk how to do this… Idk if I can.

I miss him

I miss the Elias I had

I miss what we had

I miss being able to call him in the middle of the night for whatever and he would come and vice versa

I miss the boy I fell in love w.

4 November :: It’s Wednesday

I told myself on Sunday I wouldn’t go out until Saturday this week. 

I told myself I would work out everyday and restart my BBG guide by Kayla Itsines.

And, I have.

I have worked out everyday at least once; I did the first circuit last night – my aching body can attest to it…

I didn’t go to $0.50 beer night on Mondays.

I didn’t go to $2 wells on Tuesdays.

But, now it’s Wednesday.  Possibly the hardest day to say no to the bars.

WineWednesday is my weakness; I have been to every one since I first received my fake ID, a few days before Valentine’s Day.

One spends an only $5 for an entire full-sized cheap bottle of wine. 

The bar holding this glorious deal, was always my stomping ground last semester; I was there almost every night – the bouncers didn’t even check my ID, the bartenders gave me free drinks, and I always knew at least 3/4 of the population under the roof.

Some of my most infamous moments occurred there. As well, it is where I met and became best friends w every single one of the friends I am surrounded w to this day.

It was at this bar I was yakked all over by some fucking frat star bastard.

It was there that I almost fought a fat chick for slapping her boy friend’s best friend repeatedly (which I swear he really did deserve, and he actually thought was fucking hilarious). She kept asking me “who the fuck I thought I was” to which I responded, reiterating plentiful with “upper east side, motherfucker” over and over again.

But, recently… Things have gotten messy. 

Messy with the ones I love and care about

Messy with the ones I don’t give a shit about

Messy with the ones I don’t even know

Messy with the ones I see but have never had a conversation with.
It’s messy, and I know I should stay away – but I also know that “should” has never been a word in my vocabulary

But more than anything ::

I know I won’t be strong enough to stay away .

  

the cup of tea i don’t remember having

2:02am

I’m thinking back. I’m remembering; not a lot, just small snippets, words, flashes, emotions, questions, and haze. For the most part, I don’t know what happened that night. The last thing I remember clearly was kissing him at the bar. And falling- or did I just slightly slip? I remember sitting on his lap in a small car. I remember being in an apartment and standing by an island/bar thing in the kitchen. I think we were at [[off-campus student apartment complex]]. I remember Alec handing me a glass of water. I remember swaying quite a bit and propping myself up against the wall. I remember thinking that this was almost certainly the drunkest I’ve ever been that I could consciously acknowledge.

I’ve been full on blacked out once before, but the pieces I can still sometimes grasp of that night, I did also acknowledge that I was drunk- but I wasn’t concerned about it the way I was with Alec that next time, the other previous time- I was happy drunk. I was “let’s go on an adventure” drunk, not “oh my god, I don’t know if I can walk to that door 5 ft away without falling.. I just want to lay down… I don’t care where, TBH. I don’t even care what Alec thinks of me and my drunkenness anymore. He’s nice. He’ll understand. I definitely need more water” drunk, like this next time.

I don’t remember walking to the door. I don’t remember sitting on the bed. I don’t remember who made the first move. I don’t remember if I was even present [at the time this was happening]. I think I remember kissing him in the bed, but I don’t know if I really do or if I just made it up in my head. I remember saying “condom! We have to use a condom.” But I don’t remember anything leading to that moment. Not at all from the moment Alec handed me that glass of water. I slightly remember him leading me to the bedroom but IDK if I actually do. I remember Alec saying “turn over- I want to take you from behind.” I think I remember obliging, actually no I don’t think I do.. IDK.

I remember a knocking on the wall from the other side of it, so I put my arm up and knocked back. I started to think about that movie I watched as a kid w that boy at a hotel who tried to save a monkey from his owner. The boy knocked on a suitcase -Idfk why but he did- and he heard knocking back. It was the monkey inside. Dunston Checks In. When I knocked back, I think Alec told me not to and pulled my hand back down. I don’t know when this occurred in the time we were in the bed. The bed with no sheets.

I remember feeling uncomfortable. It is my strongest memory. I was being watched. I was sitting in the bed, somewhat attempting to cover myself with spare pieces of Alec’s clothing. I was naked under them. The fat guy was standing there. On Alec’s left. He was watching me. He was saying Alec didn’t even live there. That this was his room. His bed. Not Alec’s. He asked me if I was really naked and covering myself with Alec’s clothes. I remember Alec’s other super strong friend who I always thought seemed nice, being on his other side. His right side. FatBoy on his left. I remember feeling uncomfortable. Scared uncomfortable. Like something bad was going to happen uncomfortable. I felt ridiculed. I felt judged. I felt laughed at and made fun of. I felt like a joke. Like entertainment for them. I remember being afraid. I started to wonder if I was going to have to have sex with them too.

Alec gathered my clothes for me. I remember getting dressed while they all watched me.

I want to cry as I reflect on that part of the night, that is how uncomfortable I feel about it. I want to cry and talk to someone.

Anyone.

Allison. I want to talk to Allison. I’ve told Milla parts, but I don’t really trust her with all of it. She doesn’t believe in… this sort of thing.

I laughed most of it off- like I was just embarrassed. But I’m not. I’m humiliated- in the deepest and most disturbed way I’ve ever known.

I think they saw me put my bra back on. I think they saw me put my thong [back] on. Idk if they saw anything though. I remember feeling uncomfortable and afraid. So afraid and so uncomfortable.

I want to talk to my mom about it, but I know she doesn’t want to hear about my sex life. And I don’t want her to call it rape and try to press charges or then try to pull me out of school here. Because it wasn’t rape. I wanted to hook up with him, just not right away. I wanted to wait, and hook up some time later on. I didn’t just want to give it up right away. I wanted to do it sometime in the future- like in a month or something.

But I always fuck up when I’m drunk. I do things on impulse and I don’t consider what Sober-Me wants. It’s like I have no boundaries, no morals, no self respect.

I should be studying for finals. I should be working on my make up work. I should be packing.

It’s 4:14 am.

I should be sleeping. But I can’t. I keep thinking back on that night.

My phone was broken. What if it hadn’t been? How would that have changed the events of it all? I think maybe I would have tried to call someone before I went into the bedroom. Or text. I might have texted Ari. Or Allison. Or Caleb. Or Tommy. Or Jason. Or Milla. Or even, Bella. I could have. I should have told them to come get me. I think I would have told them to come get me. I feel like I definitely would have. I’m attached to my phone. [Every time I go out] I choose someone I trust, and I text them all through the night. I know they can tell how drunk I’m getting with each text. I tell them exactly how I’m feeling and what I’m doing and where I am- if I know. I know I would have asked for help.

I feel taken advantage of. I feel embarrassed. And gross. I almost feel violated, even. I feel ridiculed and paranoid. What if they have told everyone and laugh about it between themselves?

I feel so uncomfortable. That’s the only truth I’ve disclosed with anyone about that night. I laugh it off. I put on a smile. [Waving my arms around elaborately] I exclaim about losing my wallet and breaking my phone, and act exasperated and faux-freak out that I may or may not have had sex with Alec. I act like its a joke; just another wild adventure on a night out in the life of India. But it’s not.

I feel more than uncomfortable about it all. I feel almost disturbed and IDEK.

There are worse things that have happened to other girls. Gang rape. Savagely abused. There are worse things.

But Alec was sober. Or at least a lot more than I was. Sober enough to see and understand and acknowledge how hammered I was. How gone [I was – how checked out I was]. He should have known better.

There are worse things, yet I still feel distraught over it. Like I don’t even know how to make sense [of it all]. I need to talk to Madonna about this. First thing when I get back. I’ll text her now.

But he was sober. He was stone cold sober. I was hammered. I can’t wrap my mind around that.

Couldn’t he tell? Couldn’t he see I was in no way, in any condition to make any responsible decisions, or even one at all.

Or maybe Alec could and he did; but he just chose to ignore it. IDK.

Disclaimer:: for the purpose of allowing all y’all to share the raw thoughts and emotions in this piece – the only edits I’ve made are in regard to format, names et al, and I also edited some of the writing BUT they were only the parts I felt you needed more information to better understand the train of thought I was following. I’ve bracketed and bolded my inserted information; however, I did not remove anything from the original writing.