Her First Bite

Twenty Nine | Tea

"Balloons are deflated.

Guess they look lifeless like me."

Giveon's - godly sent, fucking a-maz-ing - voice blurted out the song lyrics of Heartbreak anniversary through my headphone speakers. This song had me questioning myself: Was me drowning myself in this song, sad? Was I depressed? Was this really how I was spending my days?

All questions were answered with a single: yes.

I was laying down in my bed, listening, crying? to Giveon. This was sad. I was depressed. And this was how I was spending my days. Oh and not only was I listening to Giveon, many many many other sad songs from different artist were also being blurted out through my headphone speakers. If an artist had a sad song, best believe I was streaming it. Streaming it and. . .crying? I moved my hand up to touch my cheek, it was wet.

Yup, I was definitely crying.

And fuck this was what I did not wanted to happen. I did not want to spend two whole days in my room just crying, listening to depressing, heartbreaking music and crying but. . .ugh it was the only thing I could do. I was in a lazy, down, sluggish, gloomy mood. And trust me, I've tried to do other stuff. My legs just couldn't move from out the bed. My next plan was to turn my music station into something more. . .upbeat. Anything else than sad. (I even tried listening to fucking techno). But my hands wouldn't corporate with my mind. The sons-of-bitches kept hitting the replay button on every heartbreaking and breakup song. My hands and my mind were on two totally different paths - my mind wanted me to get hype and listen to fucking Kid Ink? while on the other side my hands wanted me to listen to music that would have me drowning in my own tears.

Guess which side won?

Well seeing as I was actually drowning in my own tears, it was safe to say that my hands had picked the music.

Picked the music for two days. Did I mention I've been in this state for two days? Well, one full day technically. But in a few hours, I would officially be in this depressing state for two full days (the day was almost over). And by that state - I meant I have been in my room, snuggling under the covers, staring at the ceiling: listening to music, thinking, thinking, oh crying and thinking.

I was mad at myself.

I was mad at Vance.

Vance. Vance. Fucking bum ass Vance. That name was the only thing that's been swarming through my head these past days. His name was causing ruckus. Causing disturbance. It was like a bad rash. But instead of an itch making me twitch and get irritated, it was a gang of questions that kept popping up in my mind annoying me. Some questions I found myself asking was: Did Vance really say so things? Did Vance really mean what he said? Was Vance a fucking idiot?

Oh I knew the answer to one of those questions, to the last question: A fuck yes.

And that statement was true - about Vance being an idiot - because he let those disgusting and hateful come out of his mouth about me. He was an idiot because he thought that I wasn't going to get offended. He was an idiot because he fucking lost me.

And a small part of me was denying that last statement. The idiot side of me was denying that last statement.

I was feeling all types of different emotions. My head was in scrabbles. Like the game. My mind was like a big, blank, empty playing board. Only certain letters were popping up: M, I, S, N, G. I was trying to unscramble my mind using those clues: Was I mad? Yeah. Was an idiot? Yeah. Was I sad? Yeah. Was I nauseous? No. Was I grumpy? A little.