My Booty Call Boyfriend

In my drunken stupor I reached out to others who will have no memory of what I told them. They will have forgotten my worries and my problems, as it none of their business. Yet, I felt hopeless and ran into their arms and agreed to drown myself with beverages with strange taste the whole night. I didn’t care who saw because nobody cared how I felt. Somewhere in the early hours of the night, I told my secrets to a man who wasn’t my boyfriend. I told him the many things I couldn’t take anymore in this relationship. I told him the many flaws that I picked out in my boyfriend. I told him that I wasn’t happy. I told him that I was trying to stay in this relationship for another month because I pitied my boyfriend. I told him that I was a horrible and rude girlfriend. I told him that I am not committed. And this man who wasn’t my boyfriend took care of my drunken self; he listened and gave advice that I won’t remember, as he smoked his 5th cigarette that night. When I couldn’t carry myself to the door or the car, he picked me up as if we were a newly wed couple entering our honeymoon suit. When I felt sick to my stomach, he gave me water and carbohydrates. When I threw up, he pulled my hair into a ponytail and rubbed my back gently. When I woke up this morning, he gave me my sunglasses and let me wear his sweats. He took care of me as if I was his girlfriend, he also made me breakfast in bed. And to be cared for like that from a guy who wasn’t my boyfriend gave me a strange yet comforting feeling.  My sober memories can’t recall much, but I know that being able to have this man with me through my drunken night that I am so thankful for him, a man who isn’t my boyfriend.

Finishing up my breakfast in bed at 2 o’clock in the afternoon,

Alex-Bianca

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