Choices We Cant Make

twelve: intoxicated

VIOLET POV

Does anybody care about the world anymore? Does anybody care about how frustrating even the most beautiful of things can be?! It always makes me want to not go through it all again. The pain, the anger, the sorrow - UGH. I feel like I just want to sit down and pretend as if non of that ever happened. I just want to pretend as if I never purchased my ticket to this rollercoaster.

I can feel it. I can feel the regret consume me - just how a fat kid down the burger aisle of Costco consumes his fries.

My mind is full of assumptions, and here I am pretending to be in a pickle between them. I have to make a choice. It is 2AM and I am sitting inside my head, with the regret of shutting Blue down and the hope that Sam does really love me.

He did not pick up my call. Jack did. The events of the night time lapse inside my head.I doze off on the couch with my journal lying on my lap.

I doze off into a world where I am not yearning for someones love whilst letting guilt drain me from my own past.

-.-

It is noon, and a Friday. Yesterday was a terrible day to go on a date- who the hell goes on dates on Thursdays?

Me.

Anyways, I get up and look across my apartment. Something seems different. I cant put a finger on it, but something seems different. The house is the same - everything is a mess, but something is different.

It does not seem the way it was last night.

I look at my door and I realize I hadn't locked it last night. I was too overwhelmed that I forgot to lock the door.

I run across my home and make sure nobody came in last night.

I open my dresser and search for my jewelry and extra cash.

They are there.

I open my cabinet and search for my laptop.

It is there.

I go to my kitchen and make sure nobody stole my steak.

It is there.

Relief tries making its way to my face, but confusion takes dominance. What the fuck happened?

I look at the clock and realize its 12:45. If I make it to work I can at least attend the group meeting after lunch.

I call Rebecca and make sure my absence was not felt. It was not.

I get dressed and as I leave I look around my house one last time. I see my couch crumpled and messy , making it evident that I slept on it. I look at my coffee table with my journal on it, placed with care. I look at my coffee mugs mounting the other end of the coffee table. It is a coffee table for a reason. Dont judge.

I look over at my cabinets- which look the same shade of poor.

I look over at my kitchen with the same monotony in its white.

Everything looks the same, but something tingles inside me. Something tells me that something happened here last night.

I shake my head and leave the apartment.

-.-

"Look who decided to show up" Rebecca says as I drag my ass inside. I am hungry. The last meal I had was 2 sips of Diet Coke last night.

Rebecca rolls her eyes and continues her afternoon talk "You look tired? Let me guess. Wild night with the Blue man with Grey eyes?" She smirks. Her smirk, unlike herself, is very very ugly.

I scoff and before I can answer her that her assumptions are nothing but far from what actually happened - my eyes shift to the man sitting on the lounge couch.

His back faces me and from his structure a sense of familiarity rushes in.

"Jack." I say. A little too loud, because with

Rebecca's eyebrows Jack lifts himself up from the couch.

Rebecca leaves after a loud whisper of "Bitch you better tell me later"

I stand straight as Jack makes his way to me and smiles an awkward smile. He says "Hey. Good afternoon. I was wondering if we could talk? How about lunch?"

Before I can come to a decision my growing hunger tells me to just shut up and oblige. And so I do.