I trusted you

I woke up, my mind groggy. My head hurts. I try to move. Everything hurts. Shit, I think, how much did I drink last night? My head throbs. I press my hands to my head, wishing for the pain to disappear. Hoping for a free thought. I want to sit up, but my body feels heavy. So heavy. I just want to lie down, forever. I manage to sit on the edge of the bed. Whose bed? Fuck, I think, I’m not home. I try to piece together the evening. But my mind was blank. There was laughter, but not mine. Hands but not wanted. It was loud and crowded and alcohol was flowing freely. That can happen, right? I’m just paranoid, right? I stand. Pain surges through me from my abdomen. My legs are shaking. I reach for something but find nothing to steady me. I sit back down. I claw at my head. Why couldn’t it just let me think for a second? All there was, was throbbing pain and numbness. That must be the alcohol. I search for the light switch. I find it. I press it. Light, so bright I squint my eyes. Panic. It’s too much. It’s too bright. Too much. I want to lie back down and forget. Never get back up. Why do I feel like this? It must be the alcohol. I push myself up. Holding onto the bed for safety. I breathe in. Breathe out. And again. And again. I open my eyes. Slowly letting the light back into my life. It feels hollow. Cold, almost. It shows me my surroundings. A bedroom, but not mine.

It must be Marks. I’m alone. That’s good. There, behind me. There’s the door. Can I reach it? I try. My fingers at the edge of the dresser. Fearing I might fall. The pain doesn’t subside. Still nothing but pain and this violating numbness. Then the cold of the handle. It grounds me. I breathe in. Breathe out. And again. And again. I open the door. No light in the corridor. I don’t like the darkness. I go to the living room. There was the party last night. If it could even be called that. A party. There was music. There was alcohol. There was… fun? I don’t remember. But it must be a party then. Mark’s friends. They were there. I met them for the first time. I drank. I drank a lot. They did too. Right? I’m in the living room. Morning sun shines through the windows. It’s nicer. But still there is a darkness lingering on me. I couldn’t place it.

Mark. He’s on the couch. Stirring. He smiles. Asks me if I feel better. I nod. Better? Just how much had I drunk last night? He says he had wanted to stop me from drinking too much, but I insisted. That doesn’t sound like me, it must’ve been the alcohol. He says he let me sleep in his bed. He took the couch. Wanted to give me space. Why did it all sound hollow? He comes over. I tense. Why? He says he loves me. And I believe him. Why wouldn’t I? I can trust him. But this pain. This numbness. This exhaustion. Must. Be. The alcohol. Right?

Right?!