Lesson Learned✔

8

Aspen

I swayed on my legs, how much had I drinked? One? Two? Five?

I didn't remember. I only remembered the blur of cups, faces swarming me. At one point I felt hands leading me to a toilet, soft voices murmuring. Looking at the mirror, I could make out the stain on my cheeks. The smudges on my eyes, the tears that stained them. 

I kept wiping away that kiss, a kiss that should not have happened. I knew it, I regretted it. I was beyond confused, rattled deeply by my own thoughts. 

The moment I drank the whole cup, my stomach turned. I could feel the strangeness at the tips of my fingers, could feel a type of looseness that came with it. But at the same time I could feel the guilt eating me alive. 

I lied. Or not. I couldn't think one straight thought, not as I had stumbled away from Elijah. Not as I had stood there, his lips on mine. I didn't know what happened, how in the world I had kissed him back. But I knew it was wrong, dirty.

I hated it. I loathed myself, for feeling this rawness in me. Hated the fact that I had been so utterly lost in the moment, being a teenager that I did the unimaginable. 

I was with Chris. I had Chris, I loved Chris. He loved me back, even if he was an ass, I still loved him. Deeply, that it broke me knowing that I needed to tell him what happened. That I needed to be honest with him, that Elijah had to go. 

For that second I kissed him, my mind thought of what it reminded me of. Of how it felt, so utterly soft and gentle. It hadn't been Elijah, but the nostalgic reminder of what it could have been. 

I asked Chris for trust but I broke it. I kissed Elijah. Nothing in the world could make up for my actions, nothing could make the pain go away. 

Even when a woman would confuse me with his daughter, Chris had given me my place. He had made time for me, he had told me was jealous. I had told him he had nothing to worry about, that Elijah was a friend. And he was, but even the fact that I was lost in the moment. The fact that I missed Chris, that I was a tad mad at him didn't justify that kiss. 

I was going to hell. 

I knew it. I hated myself for it. 

There were now two things to do. And each one made my stomach turn, made my head throb. My heart aches with so much regret that maybe drinking myself would make me forget what I'd done. 

But I knew it wouldn't, I'd only end up feeling worse. 

If I told Chris, he would hate me. As he should. There was a difference with kissing someone. And I was with someone, I was aware of it. I cheated, even if it was a small kiss. Only a peck, I had leaned in. But it was one second, one second and I hated it. 

I saw the worried glances, soothing words as I threw up again. Some control was coming back to me, but still there was so much movement it made me sick. I didn't know how long I was in there, but no one moved me. The music was still thumping, his name on my lips. A prayer of forgiveness, an apology. 

"Here," a strong voice said, turning around I saw Elijah standing a few inches away from me. A pink cloth in his hand, I debated taking it. Disappointment and disgust at the pit of my stomach at the sight of him, anger coiling around me. "Get out," I bit out trying to sound strong, but my words were nothing but soft. Broken, tired, worried. 

"I don't regret it," Elijah said, ignoring me, my back hitting the wall. I looked at him, from head to toe. I absolutely felt nothing, nothing seeing him. That feeling I had when I kissed him had evaporated into nothing, nothing but disgusting.