My flower and I

That Face

I was right. She replied as soon as i texted her, pretty enthusiastic to know how my nigh had been. We texted for a while but honestly, even though this seems harsh i didn't really feel like talking to her. It had only been a month and we consumed each other already.

She was 19, obviously more mature than me and sometimes I'd feel small. Small under the pressure of being good enough, small because i knew how much she liked hanging out with guys. Very fucking small because that's how our relationship started, with her cheating and me following her like a fool.
 
But i was okay. I was good, not lonely. I wanted love okay. I can't say i needed love in my life, but i wanted it. With love i wanted to glue back all of my shattered pieces one by one. Even though that wasn't exactly what you call love. It was some good morning and good night texts so we can both say we have a partner. And my own partner was probably cheating already. Once a horny creature, always a horny creature. So with that sweet good night text i said i was going to head to bed.
 
And so i did. I took off my shirt and threw it in the chair, which was in the middle of my messy room. God i had to do some huge cleaning up. Anyway i lied in my back on my bed looking at the bare ceiling trying to fall asleep. I did so for some good long minutes, but hell i couldn't.

My stomach was in a way burning. I had too much vodka. I could handle it, of course, i did every weekend, but tonight it was different. Usually I'd just fall asleep, because my heavy, obviously not sobber head was too tired to even think, but tonight.. Tonight it was different. I felt like the taste of the vodka was mixed with feelings. I could think.. I was thinking of someone..

That face, yeah the girl's from the club face, it was stuck in my head like she just glued it there. Her smile was too sweet to forget, i just couldn't.

Text her.

I looked at my phone. It was 1am already.. But i mean she was at the club too right. She probably is still awake, maybe having a hangover. I was about to text her when..

New message 'Hey Jonathan'~ Emma Lee. She just texted me. I smiled at myself.

- Hey what's up?
- Oh just in bed eating cereal really. By the way I'm calling you Jona.

She's eating cereal after she filled her cells with fucking vodka in a damn club and she's calling me a girl's name. Why is she that damn awesome?

-Haha Jona sounds girly but okay. I'm calling you Em.

And our conversation went on and on. We kept talking until our eyes were yelling us to go to sleep, until our hands become heavy, until our bodies were just too tired to even stay up.

The next morning felt like Satan made his hell even more special for me. You could see the hotness in my almost red eyeballs. But I didn't care, not at all.. She had the typical Canadian sense of humor. And me it had been a while since i lived in that awesome weird place so i had gotten used to it eventually. We were getting along really well it seemed unbelievable. Hell yes we were getting along really really well..