Lost

everything happens for a reason

    "Everything happens for a reason" is one of the covers to my inspirational mints.
    And I kinda hate that expression.
  Probably because it's the only thing I really have to believe when everything gets off.
   Like Saturday night, and Angelica's party when my "boyfriend" got dared to kiss me.
  It was our first kiss (like as a couple). I really didn't want it to happen because I didn't like him.
  Anyways. He practically shoved his tongue down my throat. And I wasn't having it. So I traded my blondes little brother a joint for a water bottle filled with mixed alcohol.
   I poured it in my punch and chugged the shit before this man kept pushing me down on the trampoline and continuously shoving his tongue down my throat.
   But then again everything happens for a reason so when I woke up the next morning hung over and ready for a mental breakdown I knew there was an excuse.
   Sunday morning, Cheyenne and I followed the same routine with getting out of the house at 5 am to get a little high before dealing with the day. 
   But this time our other friend was joining us at 8 am. So when she came along and brought a bottle of wine. I was hoping my sunday would be a bit more holy.
    But no the day had been plain until night. And I couldn't have waited. I wanted nothing more than to mostly forget.
   But then again that's my reasoning for everything.
   Forget.
  We traded Cheyennes neighbor a cup of wine for his vape containing THC in it. And sat outside drinking a bottle of wine and doing whatever.
  And then monday. Ah Monday. The holidays! Which used to mean something when we were kids. And this one. We didn't understand but we did understand that we got free candy and none of us were going to complain.
   now it's a night we have an excuse to do whatever we want and stay out longer than usual.
    And this year I decided to spend it dressed as a hooker with a mask. Going down to the pit.
   There I smoked a joint away from my other friends, because they weren't willing to get caught.
   I guess this was just another time that I was more reckless and didn't understand.
   I sat alone on the cold bleachers until they all started calling my name. There was a family coming by so I killed it, and threw it off in the distance.
   But then sometime during the walk I pulled out another one and walked down the public sidewalk smoking a joint. To which everyone walked ahead so if I got caught they wouldn't go down with me. I didn't care.
    Then we hung out at a skate park. It was getting colder, but I didn't care. I pulled out my last joint, and lit it laying down on the old playground looking at the sky.
    Not too long after that the same girl who brought the bottle of wine the day before pulled me over to the side of the Field so we could split her joint.
   But after that point. Things weren't right. Everything became a little sideways. And I no longer knew what anything else was.
    One thing for sure. That night. Someone either laced my shit or I had too much. I didn't remember much, and things became scary. But at that point there was nothing I could do.
    I passed out in the bathtub that night.
And that's what leads me to today... Tuesday.