Hate Notes

Chapter 3

I was drunk.

Okay, maybe not. If I was drunk, I wouldn't be having rational thoughts right now. I was almost drunk. Not there yet, but three more sips and I would be drunk.

It was so fucking sad that I could not get myself drunk after having three glasses of wine. I needed it. I desperately needed it. After the day I had, I wanted to wallow in my sadness and drown in it.

There have been moments in my life where I felt swept and consumed by hopelessness. That feeling where you have no total control over what's going on with your life, and you just sit there and let it happen. You watch everything you have ever built or everything you cherish crumble in front of your eyes. And the feeling you get at that sudden moment where everything hits you that this was it. This was where it would end and you have no choice but to accept it. That hopelessness was gut wrenching.

It's been exactly an hour since I had decided to let go of my dreams. Thinking about it made it even more real. I thought I had time. I thought I could save it, but I ended up proving what others thought about me. I could have found the easiest way out, you know? Take the money my parents offered. Accept the help given to me, but I refused to accept any help. I wanted to do it on my own. I wanted to prove not only to them, but to myself.

I forgot about my little curse. With me, nothing ever lasted. I could never hold on to anything. I should never have been confident that I could escape my curse. It's always been like this-I get what I wanted, and every time I was happy, I would end up having nothing. The thing I loved the most would slip out of my fingers.

I remembered the story Jason told me when we were kids. It was Halloween, and we went out trick or treating. I couldn't remember it, of course, but my brother remembered that night. I was only five. There were a lot of shit I couldn't remember about my childhood. Before I met Jesse, things were easier to forget. After meeting him, I remembered every single day of my life. During that Halloween, I tagged along with my brother and his friends. Now, because I couldn't remember that night, I couldn't be sure of what happened. Jason told me I met a witch who cursed me to never keep anything I loved. Of course, when I grew up, I called it bullshit. Then I started losing the things I loved the most. Until I realized I couldn't hold on to anything.

I wasn't sure what I felt right now. Sick. Defeated. Sad. Aggravated. I was really sad and hurt. Leaning back against my chair, I shut my eyes and took a few deep, cleansing breaths. Every few inhales, I would slug directly from the wine bottle, tilting my head back until I emptied the last drop. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. I needed water. Dragging myself to the kitchen, I filled a glass with water and rehydrated myself. On my way back, I decided sitting at home wasn't the ideal place to lift my spirits up. I needed to go to a bar. I decided to go to a bar.

My Uber driver found me sitting on the staircase of my apartment building. He didn't care that I was half drunk and still going to a bar-I refused to accept I was drunk. My phone buzzed in my purse. I was glad I could remember to grab my purse.

"Hello?" I said sluggishly. My cheek was pressed against the window, watching the buildings, cars, and people blur past me.

"Are you drunk?" came his instant reply.

"It depends." I hiccuped, then chuckled. "A little bit, yeah. What do you want, Jesse? I'm busy-" to the driver I said, while the phone was still pressed to my ears. "Can you turn down the radio a little?"

"Where are you?"

"On my way to a bar," I returned tiredly.

Jesse swore. "You're drunk and you're still planning on going to a bar? Fucking Christ, Iris, are you out of your mind?" he seethed. "Tell the driver to turn the car around and go home."