DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry # 175 - i know it's over

فيزا

'Hey, a blow of wind and I'm gonna have to pick you up from the floor'. A voice speaks from right behind me, while I'm using every ounce of strength left within me to rush through the corridor, and pave my tearful way to Barbaranne's door. I slightly turn, although I'm devastated and not in the mood for gabbing, and my eyes meet a very wasted, very sinister, but ever so nice Ozzy Osbourne. I was rushing like the campus sprinter that I am, in nothing but a towel that exposes three quarters of my body and my cockatiel over my shoulder, through a corridor where some dumb fucker decided to leave the windows open, and I'm freezing my ass and shaking from the cold and my ongoing panic attack. But here is the man and the legend, cheering me up a little by reminding me that I'm so thin he's afraid I may be floored by a blow of wind too hard. And I'm here, being delusional as heck, and regarding this as the closest to a compliment as it gets. Because at the end of the day, ain't this the nicest thing I've heard on my account all evening long? My 'man' had less nice words for me than a weird ass man in his 40s who creeps the heck out of me did, and that's why I'm slightly smiling at Ozzy, trying to hold back my tears, and resuming my steadfast race towards my blonde friend Barbie's room.

Sighing and sobbing from the top of my lungs, and a hand over my heart 'cause I'm hurting right in the middle of the chest, I finally approach room 567, the one I reckon being Barbaranne and Zakk's. I knock on the wooden surface, and I realise that I'm just being a nuisance and a pain in the ass, when I can't hear a sound coming from the other side, and I understand I'm disturbing a couple of lovebirds who are just trying get their much deserved sleep at 4:30AM. This could've been Sean and I, sleeping all cuddled up and tugged under the blanket... but he decided to yell at me, insult me, gaslight me, hit me or the closest to that as it gets, give me a panic attack, and break up with me in the end. And I suppose that it's totally normal of me, not to want to spend the rest of the night with him, and go look for shelter someplace else.

Just when I'm thinking about heading to the reception to see if they have a room available, and if they accept check-in's without ID and with delayed payment, because I don't have anything on myself but shame... the door semi opens in front of me, and Barbaranne's sleepy, bed head perches through the darkness coming from the other side. She rubs her eyes open, an unmistakable sign that she was sleeping and I disturbed her, but she doesn't say a word about that. She just looks at me, shaking and crying and almost naked in front of her, and furrows her brows with confusion and worry over my state. Then, the next thing I know, is that she yeets her arms around me, and she treats me to a hug I needed so damn bad. I feel myself getting weaker than before into her arms, but I happily reciprocate the hug... and I cherish the fact that I'm loved, and I can always count on someone who loves me to fix what someone else has broken. I never thought I would've needed someone else to pick up the pieces of me after Sean broke me, I though that he was never going to break me to begin with... but he did, and thank goodness I ain't alone in dealing with this now. Shame on him for having treated me like shit. But is it okay of me, to hope that he's got someone taking care of him now, like my friends are doing with me? Is it okay of me, to think that I want to know he's having it good even if he's just given me the worst heartache of my life? I think so. At the end of the day, my heart may be broken and hurting, but it's always so full of him.

'Barbie... I need a place to sleep tonight... can you and Zakk...'. I mumble, when Barbaranne finally loosens her hold over me, and looks at me like she's wondering what the heck is going on with me, given that I was perfectly fine half an hour ago. She turns the lights on, takes my hand in hers... and after that, all I can hear is Zakk growl with disappointment (I hope it ain't that, 'cause my sense of guilt is killing me) from his comfy, warm lay on the bed. I lower my glance to the floor, as to say that I'm sorry for having showed up at their door and screwed their sleep once again. Then I get hit by a wave of bravado, I lift my head up and smile, as to say that I'm thankful because I've done the killjoy to these two about ten other times, and no matter what, they did never not once leave me at the door.