He gave up, seemed to survey his work, then panicked, and redressed me. He popped my breasts back into my bra, stuck one of his T-shirts on me, and put a pair of his own boxers on me, too.
I’m working all of this out after waking up in his bed, in his clothes, with him asleep on the floor. I suspect this is a Xanax-induced sleep, because there is half a tablet on the nightstand and when I kick him, he doesn’t stir. I kick him again.
I wonder how I’m going to address this with him. He’s not the type of person who accepts being ghosted; it’s been made very clear to me he doesn’t like to be ignored. Like, do I send him a text? Just checking, Will, did you and your useless dick half-heartedly try to rape me last night?
I put my skirt on and gather my dirty underwear. My shoes are at the bottom of the stairs, and so is my vomit. I assume it’s mine, anyway. I sneak through the house, and find my handbag on the sofa, where I stuff my underwear. To my sheer delight, my phone still has thirty per cent charge, and I have a series of increasingly panicked texts from Flo. It is nine-thirty a.m., and she is concerned about the complete radio silence. She also assures me that she’s okay – like I’d fucking care?
Got in a k hole but worse
All went wrong
Went to hell like a time travelling hell like
I went to time hell
Still at will’s.
Please come get me.
I get an immediate reply
Stand outside, gettin uber r/n will pick you up!!!
She arrives fairly quickly. The morning is balmy enough that even half-dressed, with bare feet on the pavement, I’m warm.
In the cab, on the way back to hers, I can tell Flo is freaking out. She keeps asking me if I’m okay. I don’t reply.
When we get home, I hole up in her upstairs bathroom. I vomit, and shiver, and Flo wraps me in towels. She brings me water and asks questions. I spend the rest of the morning alternating between vomiting and explaining to Flo why I’m not going to call the police. In short: drugs, and the fact I can sort him out myself.
‘Do you remember when we watched I Spit on Your Grave?’ I ask. She makes a face. ‘What happened to all cops are bastards, Flo? I can deal with it. He didn’t actually stick it in me, so as far as I’m concerned…’ I shrug. ‘I mean, I won’t work with him again, if you’re worried about that.’
She sits down on the bathroom floor beside me. Her bathroom. Michael is at work.
‘I just feel awful. I shouldn’t have left you,’ she says. She hasn’t slept a wink; her eyes stream while she speaks to me. She still has eyeliner smeared around her brow-bone, her temples, and mascara ringing her eyelids. She takes advantage of me coughing and spluttering to speak, uninterrupted for a while. ‘You know, you want to think you’re… You want to think you’re not like other women, but you are, you know. You’re still… that’s still how the rest of the world, how men are going to see you. Like, I know you hate labels, but like… You live in a woman’s body. You’re vulnerable. No matter what you think, you’re vulnerable, and sometimes, you’ll need other people. Friends. Me.’
‘Then why did you leave me?’ I snap. ‘If I’m so vulnerable, if you knew it’d go wrong, why the fuck would you let that happen to me?’ She starts sobbing. She tries to touch me, and I lean away from her hand, moving closer to the toilet. Which, to be fair, has proven to be a stalwart ally in the last twelve hours. ‘Just leave me alone.’
She leaves. I check her blog pretty sharp. At the moment it’s just loads of obnoxious seshy bullshit about being on drugs. I’ll check back this evening.
When I’m feeling a little more able to move without gipping, I check in on Flo. She’s sleeping, face-down on the bed. I leave, get an Uber, no note, no text.
Is it a little bit crackers to stick my head straight into Tesco when the cab drops me off? Yes.
Have I done it anyway? Absolutely.
In my defence, I only have bag salad in my fridge and I think I’ll be badly in need of some potato products by this evening. I’m wearing one of Flo’s shirts, my skirt from last night, still, and have all my stuff shoved into one of her many art gallery tote bags. Luckily genetics and La Mer have rendered my skin flawless and youthful, so I’m fine walking in with no makeup. Hair looks a bit… It is what it is. I still basically look good. I can crawl out of Time Hell and be a solid 8/10.
I buy chips. He isn’t here.
I get home, drop on the sofa and send a text to Will, intending to block his number as soon as I’m done.
Any particular reason why i woke up in your fucking clothes this morning pal???????
And I leave it at that, with the only tangible evidence I have.
therabbitheartedgirl:
Jeeeeeeesussss fuuuuuucking chriiiiiiiiiist Ive had the fucking worst 24 hours I am fucking…… RRRRRRRRR!!!!!!!! I’m literally sat here sobbing off the back of a huge fight with Michael about irina AGAIN. Im really scared we’re going to break up this time. Really really scared, but he just said the worst things about her. Something really bad happened to her at the party on Monday night and he said she was making it up and she was trying to upset me and make me feel guilty and i was just so angry with him!!!! How dare he say that about her???? How DARE he????? I know she has a manipulative streak, and i know when she’s upset she likes to twist the knife and kind of put it onto other people. lots of people do that, it doesnt mean she’s evil and it doesnt mean she’s a fucking liar. So disgusting. And he said ‘any one but her, literally any one but her I’d believe it 100% but shes a fucking monster.’ And he tells me he loves me and he’s just worried about me.
Idk i just feel weird and sick. I love both of them. And i think w my job being 4 days a week and stuff, I’d probably have to move back in with my parents if me and michael broke up. And I just like i dont want to break up with him and its just such a GROSS thing to say but part of me wonders if he might have a point you know? Its a fucked up thing to lie about, and i dont actually think??? She lied??? But she went from zero to blaming me so quickly as well??
Aaah jfc this is sort of messy to explain but ive caught her in lies before. Ive never told her or pulled her on it but ive caught her before, just on dumb shit like her fucking college results like she told people at uni that she got a distinction but she got a merit and that’s the deliberate stuff but she’d also always do this thing where like. So all the time in uni she’d get blackout drunk （when i was with her, and not as fucked up as her） and she’d just sort of fill in the blanks for herself and repeat it for people, and I’d literally be with her thinking ‘well that’s just not what fucking happened???’ Like she’d tell this story about how some chavvy girl had shoved her in a club, and that’s why her knees were bruised, but she’d just fallen over — shit like that all the time. And granted this is some dark fucking shit to fill in the blanks with but… christ im almost not fucking surprised? Im a shit friend for even thinking it. Shit friend, shit feminist. Urgh.
FRESHERS
I wake up a full twenty-four hours later on my sofa, bag of chips completely defrosted in my lap. I bin them, and promptly head to the shower, where I sit under the spray for a solid half an hour, wedged into the bottom of the bath.