𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕒𝕥 ℂ𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕖𝕤 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕃𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 ➀

20 MISTAKES

As per usual, I did not get a single fucking wink of sleep. I had, however, tidied up my entire apartment because I wasn't able to sit still. I'm glad whatever-her-name-is didn't end up coming into my place last night because it was a fucking mess. The majority of the evening I had spent in a Tanqueray induced haze trying to numb my brain.  Although, I allowed myself to occasionally drift off into the prospective thoughts of what could have been.  I never let my mind linger there for too long though.

Currently, I'm sitting on my couch starring at the wall in front of me. My fog wore off about an hour ago and I am no longer numb to the world. I take a sip of water and nearly choke when I hear a knock at my door. I already know who it is without even having to guess.

Fuck, here we go. 

I stand up, feeling partially nauseous as I trudge my way over to the door. I'm not ready for this. I don't want to do this. Even though those are the thoughts in my mind I open up the door anyway. Monica is standing there, just like I'd expected, looking tired and rough around the edges.

I don't say a fucking thing as I look down at her. Not a word comes out because I don't even know where I'd even begin. Was it mine? If so, why the fuck didn't you tell me? How fucking long did you know about it? Yeah, it's probably better that I just keep my volatile mouth closed for the time being.

"Um, hey." She gives me an uneasy look before continuing. "I just want to say thanks for your help last night. I uh, don't really remember much of it." She begins fiddling with the hem of her shirt, looking down at the floor as she does so. "I just uh, I'm sorry."

I study her exhausted looking form for a moment before asking, "sorry for what?"

She looks up at me with uneasy brown eyes before answering. "You know, for ruining your night with your friend." Her voice lingers on the last word in the strangest of ways, one I'm not going to even pretend to understand. 

I hold up a hand and wave that notion off. "You didn't ruin anything, Monica. Honestly, you probably saved me from making a fucking horrible decision." What? Since when is getting laid a horrible decision? Probably because I haven't really wanted to be with anyone since Monica.

My brain is fucked to the nth degree and it's been fucked by the woman standing in front of me. Last night was a last ditch effort to try and get my god damn libido going again. The truth is, since being with Monica, I hadn't wanted to fuck anyone else, be with anyone else. Four entire weeks and no satisfaction, absolutely fucking nothing.

"Oh." She sounds just as surprised as I was by the words I'd said. "Still, I'm sorry you had to drag me into my apartment. I don't even remember how I got in my bed or falling asleep."

"That's because you didn't fall asleep, Mon. You blacked the fuck out and almost fell in the doorway. I picked you up and put you to bed." 

"Jesus." She looks off to somewhere else, somewhere other than me. I'm looking over her, trying to figure out what's going on in that beautiful skull of hers. Why isn't she bringing it up? "Anyway, like I said, thanks." She begins to turn around to go back into her apartment but I grab her arm first.

Not so fast, sweetheart. "I think we've got a bit more to talk about, Monica." She doesn't turn to look at me and she doesn't say anything. Fuck, I'm going to have to be the one. I blow out a long breath before saying, "I saw the pill bottles, Monica."

She shrugs, "I have no idea what you're talking about." She's a terrible fucking liar.

"Is that so?"