Where Will You Be Waking Up Tomorrow Morning

22

"Brendon!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!! IS GOING ON!!! THERE ARE UNDERWEAR, THAT ARE NOT MINE!, UNDER THE BED. WHO HAVE YOU BEEN FUCKING, TELL ME, PLEASE." She started to cry, but I was in the wrong. I had been cheating, with the producer of the album Alexa and I were making. 

"Alexa... Alexa.." I grab her shoulder, and spin her so she will listen. "I slept with Megan, the producer of our Album. I'm sorry. I slipped. We can still get married, right?" I had finally realized what I had done. It was just one time, just once. I probably fucked everything up. 

"I don't know Brendon, I need some time. I don't understand how you could do this. Everything you said, even if it was just one night, how could you?" She was crying as she folded her things into a suitcase, and called a cab. 

"I'll be at the Bellagio on the strip. Please don't come down. I'll call if I want to talk."

About 3 hours after she left, I was drunk. Slobbering drunk. I was walking around singing Hurt by Nine Inch Nails. I was drinking straight from the vodka bottle hoping that I would just black out. Then I performed a terrible rendition of Screaming Infidelities by Dashboard Confessional. Only I was the cheater, I was the person, or type of person the song was about. She was the one talking about the me, the cheater.

Around 2:30 in the morning, I call Dallon. "Dallon, I'm drunk, and I fucked up and everything is horrible and I just want to die, please come over." The words were all one sentence, strung together by vodka. Strung together by the bitter sense of regret, and awful feeling of knowing that you may not be able to get back to the one you love. 

Dallon walked in right as I was about to black out. 

"Dallon, just make sure I don't die. Or actually let me choke on my vomit." I flopped on the couch. 

"I think you should sleep in the tub, to you know, not ruin the couch,"

I stumble into the bathtub and go to sweet world of blackness, that is being drunk and blacking out, and not having to deal with the hell that is reality. 

I wake up and check my phone. Alexa called. I got to senses changed out of my slightly vomit stained clothes.  Dallon was still there and had made breakfast. 

"I have to call back Alexa." I stumbled around.

"Alexa, what are you thinking?" 

"I think I can forgive you. But if this happens again, we are DONE. I am sorry, I know you slipped. I'll be home later today." Her voice cold and hoarse, I knew she had been sobbing. And it was all my fault. In that moment, I hated myself as much as one human possibly could hate themselves.