Lost with Cuervo

February 16, 2010
By Anonymous

My shoes bumped yours and my hands were awkwardly placed around you and your hands knew what they wanted. They wanted me. You slid your tongue into my mouth and it awkwardly slithers around. I wanna vomit. I wanna scream "STOP" but I don't. Because he wanted me. His hands were urgent and his body trembled with desire. I want to cry and push you off but It's all too cliche the drunk girl and the boy in poor desire and sex based ideas. Probably picturing me naked already planning our wedding. But I love him I shout in my head. And he knows it! I love him! But he is gone and this boy he is here and passionate and hungry for me. I push and cry I'm a waste, you deserve more not speaking to the boy whose tongue was previously so far down my throat I thought for sure I would die. No, to the man who gave me a ring. To the man who promised me his soul. "I am a waste." I let his fairy tale drug me and now I want to know if I am missing anything or everything or nothing... I knew my decision was mine but tonight I blame alcohol and its need for me to feel something besides sad. SO I push this impulsive sex-driven boy off my body and I cry because now I don't only feel sad. I am lost in cliches and confusion. I am lost drowning in a bottle of Jose Cuervo that I push against my chest. I am lost.

The author's comments:
alcohol references.

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