It's 3:19am and I got in from L's half an hour ago and it was a great, wild night and I had so much fun and we were all very drunk and didn't care about anything, but now I'm here looking at my tear stained cheeks and bright red lipstick because that makes me look like I have it a bit more together than I actually do. But the girl in the mirror is different to the one that was dancing and the life of the party at 1am this morning.
It's weird that I'm like this now because I had a good day and thought the other phase had passed but the inevitability of the realisation that I'm still in a place that I don't want to be, with nobody here waiting for me was always going to kick back in again at some point.
But the only person that can get this weak, crying body up off the floor and stop it from happening again is not here and I always need that person in the soberest of times but right now, I needed them more. I needed them to tell me that everything is going to be ok and hold my hand and just smile at me. I needed some comfort and that person is my comfort and safety. I could be stuck out at sea with them and still feel safe. I was sober at this point, but why is it that after drinking and your brain gains its deep thinking power and emotions again, it always hits in the most painful way and slams you hardest against the wall?
Don't think for a minute that I'm always like this after alcohol, because I'm not. It's just on that very odd occasion that my head chooses to make it the forefront of everything and it ends with me on the floor flooded by darkness. A darkness that feels as if you can't escape it and one that might shroud you for a while. But it always fades. Eventually. Sometimes it just lasts the night, sometimes it lasts longer but it will leave you.
Here's to next year when I'll be doing the right thing for me and things will be a lot different.