i've had many thoughts questioning the relationship between me and joba.
last night was a blur, but the only major event that stuck out was the look of disappointment on the taller ones face.
this situation brings a weird sensation to my stomach as i rest my back up against the corner of the couch.
i've never been in this kind of state when it comes to guys. i've always have had the same intention and has always never failed to succeed without any hesitation.
i groan and lift myself up off the couch as my head pounds and pounds.
i go put on my shoes and leave the apartment. i walk to the nearest club which is about thirty minutes walking distance, but i really don't mind due to the stress the boy who sadly stays in the apartment brings to me.
i soon arrive and walk inside. it's a little after noon and theres only a few people inside. i order myself a drink before sitting down. the palm of my hand stays put on the area of the pounding.
"here you go," the bartender spoke.
"bad night?"
"you know it." i groan as my eyes squint due to the pain.
"hey, man, here." he says as he hands me advil.
"thanks."
i take the advil and swallow it with my cup of beer.
a few more hours past and my head feels funny. i'm not thinking right and my eyes are more droopy than usual.
more people spill into the club and start to dance drunkenly. i stare at a group of men who teasingly slut shame a woman who gives one of their "buds" a lap dance. my fist ball up and my blood starts to boil.
i'm just being hypocritical. i disrespect guys, but for some reason seeing a significant other being disrespected stabs at my heart.
i leave the sight and walk over to the same bartender from earlier and order another beer.
"i am so fucked." i groan.
"why?" he asks.
"long story."
"i have time." he smirks.
i lift my head up and enthusiastically look at him as he gives me a smirk.
"i like to-well, i'm somewhat a player? i don't know how to explain it and i don't wanna," i start off.
"so, i met this boy and he makes me feel different, you know?"
he nods at me with empathy before replying with, "does he know that?"
"we're dating, but i'm such an asshole. came home drunk and some dude was all kissing me and i allowed it."
he sighs and nods his head.
"you are. big asshole move right there."
"yeah, i know. don't gotta make me feel worse than i already do." i hiss.
"give me another drink."
he takes my cup and fills it up. i take it and gulp it down. my eyes squint and my taste buds and throat burns due to the unexpected, strong alcohol that just entered my system.
i order five more and i'm completely out of it.
"hey, stay here with me before you do anything stupid." the bartender demands.
"he tells me what to do? i can live with that." i smirk. he gives me a look of annoyance and reminds me of the boyfriend i currently have.
"i feel so guilty." i gloomily say as i tap the sides of the glass cup.
"why?"
"i-i hurt him. i hurt my joba." i reply shortly after.
"wow, didn't think you was gonna be a soft one."
"leave me alone, dickhead." i say as my nose tingles, which signals me of my urge to cry. i try not to. i've been told by many grown figures in my life to never cry no matter what. i think it being told that had an impact on my life because of how hard and bottled up i am.
i wipe the tears off my face once they start to race down my face.
"i-i think i'm in love with a boy who i keep on hurting."
