Nicotine and Razors

Alcohol and Music

10 P.M.
These thoughts just wont leave. I had sex for the first time with the person I wanted to lose it to. His name is Marcus. He is my ex and yet my best friend. He and I are trying to be together again. I miss him so damn much. But thats not whats worrying me. Its the sex part. He came inside me. I mean, it was my first time and I havent had my period in months for medical reasons, but its the fact that I might be pregnant that worries me and wont leave me alone. Marcus said he wants the baby but doesnt. I want to keep it. No abortions. I couldnt live with myself if I had one or gave the baby away. I have to wait at least three weeks to take the test. And he, happily, wants to be there when I do. He wants to know just like me. Along with my best friend. Shes excited to find out.

However, tonight I'm going to drink. Vodka mainly, maybe a little fireball. And smoking. Thats one thing that wont change until I find out. I will only stop if I'm pregnant. But until then, I'll have my greedy little gifts.

11 P.M.

As i sit here, all alone in the cabin, drinking a chaser of mixed fireball and root beer, ive just realized on how lonely i have been getting. Ive already smoked one and almost onto my third drink, and I'm just looking around, the music pumping loudly, filling the air of quietness. My father left to go see someone, a friend who got married tonight, bringing a drink of lemonade and vodka, a strong one at that. Maybe a little too strong for he's driving with no license. I have no data, no ability to talk to anyone tonight. Otherwise I'd be talking to Marcus and inviting him to join whilst my father is out. It hasnt even been an hour of being alone. I dont know what to do. I'm craving Marcus. Craving his touch and voice and care and love. Just needing him. A game of pool is unfinished, one that I started before he left. Only two balls off. The rest untouched by me. My drinks pulling at my focus.

I just smoked my last one of two I brought. I sat outside with the mosquito filled night and let the familiar smoke burn my throat. My drink covered inside, watching the exhaled smoke swirl in the wind catching it, twirling and then disappearing. Music blasted through the speakers, loud enough and clear coming through the door. I'm feeling dizzy now and slightly sick. Probably going to be hungover in the morning at not having much to eat that day. And its not even midnight to where im on my third mixed drink. Barely able to hold my drink while waiting for someone to come rescue me from my lonely state. Oh the amount I wish where Marcus was here...

12:48 P.M.

On my fifth drink, while my dad is on number two. Barely able to think straight and walk, I'm almost throwing up. Still trying to pretend that I'm only on number three and not number five. My voice sounds far away, my head spinning round and round. Barely even able to type right without messing up. My voice does not sound like my own. Its been months, three months to be exact, that i have felt this way. This drunk. I love this feeling. I'll be hungover in the morning but thats okay. At least I'm having fun.