Ignorance is bliss

[1] Introduction to destruction

Introduction to destruction- Sum 41

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Our relationship has been explosive, it has been exhilarating, but most of all - it has been destructive. I knew it would end up ripping us apart from the beginning, but uncaring, ignorant and excited,  i delved in- because even just a short amount of time bathed in the ecstasy that is us is better than nothing. I remember the first time we met, and even now, with the blood soaking my clothes and the slow but sure shadow of death blanketing over me, i cant even force myself to regret it.

Exiting my current chair and standing tall, I welcome the familiar wash of dizzy and numbness and I let the feeling lift my spirits. Ha, drinking spirits lifts your spirits. Oh shit-I'm more drunk than I originally thought- but that's OK. Gripping the tabletop and hauling myself forewords, I leave my bag behind and I begin the not so long journey home.

Even drunk i can tell my body is fucking worn out, i have yet to check for bruises but i can feel the odd pressure building up in my limp limbs and feet. Once home, I let my aching frame collapse onto my dilapidated sofa, and a pill resting on my table grabs my attention. Fuck it. Dry swallowing, I can only hope its a good one, because I'm not in the mood for tripping. A groan skillfully slips past my frowning lips and graces its presence, filling the otherwise empty air in my living room. I am bored sat here, doing nothing, so trying to reach my kitchen, I manage to slip over. And sprawled out on my floor, tangled hair draped across my face, bruised and battered, completely gracelessly- i pass out.

My eyes flutter slightly as I try to take in my surroundings. With my irises clearly not ready for the impact of the overly bright spring morning, it takes a couple of seconds to realize I am at home. On the floor, in fact. Sitting up, the drone of a hangover sets into place, refusing to let me think. A swirling occupies my abdomen, whilst a side splitting ache tag teams my skull. I manage to drag my pathetic carcass into the kitchen and proceed to try and remember yesterdays events. After the party, i am wiped, with no recollection whatsoever. Fan-fucking-tastic. Taking a handful of prescription pain medication, I set about my day. Stepping into the mold-ridden tub, the luke warm droplets pelt against my tainted flesh, and continue their cleaning assault until I have washed my long, unruly brown tresses.

While drying myself, I find four fresh bruises. Four. I stare at them for a while, taking in the array of colours and depth of purple. The first three are situated along my right arm, while the fourth curls up my side, occupying more space than I would have liked- at leased its hidden. Playing some Fidlar I set about getting ready. With my pale face being priority, I pat on some makeup, covering any blemishes. My hair can fuck off, and the jeans and t-shirt on the floor are alright, they've only been there, what- four days? Fine. With it being a Tuesday, I'm off work, maybe I'll go and visit Connor, yeah- i'll go visit Connor. Connor and I don't go out, we're not friends, we sort of just - fuck. Skirting round my sofa and spying for my bag, I roll a cigarette and let it hang between my lips in confusion- where is my bag? Seen as though I can't remember anything past 12 from yesterday i'm gonna have to assume its at that guys house. Oh bollocks. Whatever, I can go get it on the way to Connors.

Sauntering up the drive and taking in the littered garden, I go to knock on the door. Whoosh!

"Ah shit!"

And that, was the first time I ever met you. I was not entranced by your face-or body for that matter. It definitely wasnt love at first sight, I'm not entirely sure that its love now. Our first encounter was completely unspectacular, but I do definitely remember it, on account that you pushed me over while trying to leave your house.

"Ah shit!" The deep voice grumbled out. I had unintentionally screamed as the stranger lumberd into me. Squinting up at him, I didn't see a hand to help me up- mainly because there wasnt one. "Bloody hell why did you do that!"

"It's not like I did it on fucking purpose, why are you here anyway?" I managed to scramble up with a hint of dignity, "Is this your house?"

A non-commital grunt escaped his lips. "Well?"

"Pup, what the fuck are you doing mate?" I looked up after a third voice entered the equation. "Hi, am I alright to look for my bag, I'm pretty sure I left it last night?..."

The man at the door nods and i head for the house, once inside, I see my bag and snag it up, then turn to leave. The guy reffered to as 'pup' all of a sudden barges in and shoulders past me "Oi, what the fuck?" He dosen't even reply, just snatches up a bag off weed from the table and storms out.

That is it. Compleltely anti climatic. I fucking hated you that day. You were a massive dick. Still are I suppose. Anyway, after that, I continued to leave your house and never look back. I didn't see you again for a long time, I wonder if it would have been better if I never saw you again.