Fragment #45 - Last thought of him

Not again. My head is aching, my eyes are dry. I push the blanket away, and notice someone's there. Oh God... What's his name again? I stand up, and go staggerring along to the kitchen. Where the hell is this aspirin tube? Needs to kill that pain... now... please...

Craps. How come there are so much craps in this fucking drawer? Ashtray, toothpicks, saucers, ... A spare toothbrush?! And a letter, why the hell...

Woo... The letter. The letter I didn't want to open up out of a grown up "I don't need to open it, I'm over him". Fuck off. I tear it open. Read through it. I'm not seeing well. I think I've started crying, some small moist circles are now all over the paper. Alcohol doesn't make me any good, I'm so emotional now. I pull the letter away. Open the fridge, pull out some orange juice bottle. I'll think about it later. What does it mean to send a "I wish you all the best" letter to an ex, seriously? Especially if it's the occasion to reveal everything you couldn't tell in months? Something about drug dealing, prison... I mean, if he had reasons earlier not to tell, why now, when it's over?! So he can feel, good, relieved? How am I meant to feel? Will he feel lighter, feel like he has done something good, reparing what has been done when it's too late? It's so selfish of him... I feel bitter. I knew I didn't need to read this.

What I need to do is to tell whatever-his-name-is to leave me alone...

Could things become worse and worse? Can I be ever more messed up? Let's try not to think about the past that much. It doesn't do me any good. It just makes me ever more pessimistic. I sip up some orange juice and go to the bathroom to freshen up. Let's go back to what's still to come.