Monday, August 10, 2015

The day started with someone else's breathing. I knew it wasn't mine because I stopped. I turned my head slightly for a shirtless man to come into my view. His body lay astray and his hair was shaggy and undone. It didn't take me long to put the pieces together, but I looked underneath the covers to make sure I was right. Yup. Naked. I slowly got up in search for my clothing only to wince from a sudden violent pain in my head. Hangover. That explains the how and the why. I continued to get up and found my dress on a couch, bra hanging on a lampshade, left heel underneath a coffee table, right shoe behind the couch, clutch on a kitchen counter, and underwear hanging off a ceiling fan. I must have had fun. I got dressed as quickly as possibly only to find myself giving the nameless guy a longing look. He shifted in his sleep so I was able to see all of his face. I told myself that I could've done worse. I stumbled out of his apartment and did a double take at the overly familiar hallways. I turned around. 1307. I lived in 1309. This is my apartment building. I slowly walked down the hall and unlocked my door. I looked over at my kitchen table and saw a stack of mail awaiting me like a lost puppy. I flipped through it, not giving the bills the attention it craved; I stopped at a letter from my mother. Lydia Jane Pierce. I put it with the rest of the letters she sent. In a stack on my bookshelf that reminded me of my dead grandfather. She's been trying to get in contact with me ever since I left Seattle, probably for good reason but I didn't care. I instinctively reached for my shoulder, where the last burn had been. I told myself she should have done better, tried harder. I told myself that every time. It consumed the faulty guilt and washed it away. I put my heels on the kitchen counter and ran towards my bed. Soaring, as if I were Peter Pan. For some reason I always prayed that I'd land, as if the bed would one day disappear. I guess I'm used to things disappearing, including myself. I landed this time and began to contemplate the guy's name. I figured I should at least try to remember. I listed off the basics. Chad, Tyler, John, Jake...nothing. I guess we didn't exchange that information. I shrugged it off and relaxed my shoulders into my bed letting it embrace me in all of its softness. I was letting my mind go blank in order for me to sleep when the naked stranger reappeared. I let my face draw a disapproving look as to scold my mind. Why did I care? I don't need to be hung up on a guy that I don't even know. For some reason though, I think my head and heart were telling me to pay attention.


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