Some Things Are Meant To Be [EDITING]

Pushing It Away Won't Fix It

Slowly, I opened my eyes just to squeeze them tightly shut the next moment. The sunlight blinded me enormously. My mouth felt as if something had crawled in there and died on my tongue. "Ugh," I groaned into the pillow.

I felt like my head was going to explode out of my eye and my stomach kindly reminded me that if I didn't find a bathroom any time soon, it would empty its contents right on my clean bedsheets. I don't remember drinking enough to make me have this bad of a hangover. I sighed heavily, running a hand through my long dark brown hair as I sat on the edge of the bed. "Shit." I mumbled to myself, my hands moving to my temples; rubbing them for a moment. I had a pounding headache - and my heart didn't feel too good either.

Suddenly my phone buzzed on the night stand, I groaned frustrated. I was so busy wallowing in self pity the night before that I had forgotten to turn it off or at least switch on silent.

Wes' name flashed on the screen. The horrible feeling of deception practically taking over my mind. You shouldn't have gotten so attached, I scolded myself as I stared down at my phone. My eyes started to tear up a little bit. I sniffled, but then sat up straighter, and tried to push the hair away from my eyes. I bit my lip as I held back my tears as best as possible, promising myself I wouldn't cry anymore.

Rubbing my eyes, I stood, stretched, and walked over to the door from my room. Opening the door, and wincing at the loud squeaking it made, I stumbled out of my room and made my way to the bathroom across the hall. In the last second, I managed to lift the lid. Firmly embracing the toilet, I said hello to all the drinks I had had the night before.

Having emptied my stomach, I rinsed my mouth and looked into the mirror that hung above the sink and boy was I not pleased with what I saw. My dark brown hair stood up in all directions. My face was deadly pale, my eyes were bloodshot, and my cheeks were stained black from my mascara. "How attractive we are this morning," I told my reflection disparagingly.

I pulled off my clothes and stepped in the shower. I scrubbed away at my face, hoping to rinse off the tear stains on my cheeks. Maybe if I scrubbed hard enough, all of my feelings would be gone. But it didn't seem to help. Actually, it seemed to make matters worse. All of the pain from last night came rushing back - and there was nothing I could do to wash it away.

I stepped out of the shower fighting to hold back my tears. Looking at myself in the mirror again, I noticed that the mascara was gone, but my cheeks were more red and puffier than they were before. I changed into my 'bum around the house clothes' a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. I dragged myself out of the bathroom and walked over to Jill's room. I poked my head inside and saw her lying on the foot of her bed, curled up in a ball.

"Jill wake up." I gently shook her shoulders. "Jillybean?"

"I'm up, I'm up, enough with the shaking," she mumbled, smacking my hand away.

I laughed, rubbing my hands where she slapped them.

"Good morning, sunshine,"

She groaned and grabbed her head. "Sam please, lower the volume," She muttered.

"I'll go make us some coffee," I said softly, walking out of her room.

I headed for the kitchen and started a fresh pot of coffee. I rested my elbows on the counter, running my hands over my face. As much as I didn't want to, I kept thinking about Wes, I just couldn't get him out of my head! I tried to think about something else, but he kept popping up in my mind. I instictively squeezed my eyes shut. I thought maybe if I tried hard enough every thought of Wes would just go away.

I looked up to see Jill walking into the kitchen and yawning, looking a mess. Her hair was disheveled, it stood up and drooped in front of her face. Her blue T-shirt was on backwards, she had one sock on, and her make up was still on from the night before, though now smeared down her cheeks rather than elegantly highlighting her bright blue eyes. Luckily for us we didn't have to explain to Jill's mom why we looked like zombies from 'The Walking Dead'. Her flight was delayed until the next morning, which gave us enough time to recuperate from our 'fun-tastic' hangover.