Beautiful Mistake
Unfair
The sun shone high in the bright blue, cloudless sky, warming everything in its reach. The birds chirped and a light breeze rippled through the leaves and the crisp, white sheets that were hung out on the line.
A groan vibrated in my throat as I rolled over and came back into consciousness. My tongue stuck to the rough of my dry, dry, dry mouth and for a second I thought that I had to unstick it with my fingers. The smell of the next door bakery wafting in through the open window made the insides of my stomach tighten and bile rise in the back of my throat. The all too familiar throbbing ache in the back of my head, behind my left ear reminded me of what happened last night. Alcohol lots of it. I could even smell it off the sleeping form curled around me. Jägermeister. Bacardi. Cosmopolitans. Guinness. Corona and lime. Grey Goose. Caipirinha. Tequila Sunrise. Not in that order of course. Or maybe in that order? Honestly it was all a blur. The past year has been a blur. The past year has been filled with waking up just like this: emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl, downing Tylenol to dull the jackhammer in my temple, and drinking water straight from the tap. At first it was actually kind of enjoyable. In a sick way, it reminded me that I was alive and that I earned it. A good hangover was a sign of an even better night. But now. Now it all feels like a mistake. Just a big beautiful mistake. And I’m finally awake to realize it.
I opened my eyes and the sunshine streaming into the window made it feel like I had driven spikes into my eyes. It was like I was run over by a truck. I tried to push myself up into a seated position but my brain and the heavy arm draped across my waist told me to stay horizontal. I groaned again and decided to lie back down. I looked to my side and took in the strong jaw that had the slightest hint of stubble, the straight line of his nose and the smooth, caramel colored skin. Beneath the fluttering, thick lashes that made me jealous were the deep brown, soulful eyes that first lured me in and made me fall in love. Well to be honest I think it was his lips that lured me in. We met outside a bar. I was looking to bum a cigarette and I was too fixated on the way his cigarette casually hung from the outer corner of his lips to recognize the tattoos and the perfectly coiffed hair. The same hair that somehow still managed to look perfect despite having been rumpled and raked through with my fingers. It was so unfair how perfect he looked while sleeping and how he probably doesn’t even have the hint of a hangover. All of it kind of seemed unfair. There were millions of girls who wished they were in my spot, there were millions of reasons as to why I should leave and there were millions of reasons as to why I should stay.
Despite having the looks and the voice of an angel, he was the snake in the Garden that pulled me into his life, a life that burned too bright and moved too fast.
A groan vibrated in my throat as I rolled over and came back into consciousness. My tongue stuck to the rough of my dry, dry, dry mouth and for a second I thought that I had to unstick it with my fingers. The smell of the next door bakery wafting in through the open window made the insides of my stomach tighten and bile rise in the back of my throat. The all too familiar throbbing ache in the back of my head, behind my left ear reminded me of what happened last night. Alcohol lots of it. I could even smell it off the sleeping form curled around me. Jägermeister. Bacardi. Cosmopolitans. Guinness. Corona and lime. Grey Goose. Caipirinha. Tequila Sunrise. Not in that order of course. Or maybe in that order? Honestly it was all a blur. The past year has been a blur. The past year has been filled with waking up just like this: emptying the contents of my stomach into the toilet bowl, downing Tylenol to dull the jackhammer in my temple, and drinking water straight from the tap. At first it was actually kind of enjoyable. In a sick way, it reminded me that I was alive and that I earned it. A good hangover was a sign of an even better night. But now. Now it all feels like a mistake. Just a big beautiful mistake. And I’m finally awake to realize it.
I opened my eyes and the sunshine streaming into the window made it feel like I had driven spikes into my eyes. It was like I was run over by a truck. I tried to push myself up into a seated position but my brain and the heavy arm draped across my waist told me to stay horizontal. I groaned again and decided to lie back down. I looked to my side and took in the strong jaw that had the slightest hint of stubble, the straight line of his nose and the smooth, caramel colored skin. Beneath the fluttering, thick lashes that made me jealous were the deep brown, soulful eyes that first lured me in and made me fall in love. Well to be honest I think it was his lips that lured me in. We met outside a bar. I was looking to bum a cigarette and I was too fixated on the way his cigarette casually hung from the outer corner of his lips to recognize the tattoos and the perfectly coiffed hair. The same hair that somehow still managed to look perfect despite having been rumpled and raked through with my fingers. It was so unfair how perfect he looked while sleeping and how he probably doesn’t even have the hint of a hangover. All of it kind of seemed unfair. There were millions of girls who wished they were in my spot, there were millions of reasons as to why I should leave and there were millions of reasons as to why I should stay.
Despite having the looks and the voice of an angel, he was the snake in the Garden that pulled me into his life, a life that burned too bright and moved too fast.