Monday, January 02, 2006



In thinking back to my half-conscious hungover morning today, I remembered something kind of weird. I heard someone walk by and open the front door to the boy's apartment. Then I heard footsteps coming back my way, and I peeked up, and saw the boy standing over me, looking down at me. I kind of passed back out, and a few minutes later, I heard him go out the back door to his car, and take off.
So, why did he go to the front door? What is up with that? Why would he do that? Now, I know I didn't fall asleep until well after he had gone to bed, because I still had more throwing up to do. Therefore, it seems unlikely that he snuck a girl in for the night, right? But what if she called a few hours later, and I was too unconscious to hear the phone ring or her coming in?
It probably didn't even happen. I'm probably be ridiculously paranoid. But the idea of him having a girl in his bed, touching a girl, when I was just in the other room, makes me want to throw up. Why does my mind do this? Go exactly where I don't want it to go, and then linger there, making me feel worse and worse?
I suppose I'm not even supposed to care if there was or wasn't a girl. It's not my place. But it would feel like a betrayal. And even as a hypothetical, it makes me want to start crying.

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