A.N: Wrote this up just this morning and I'm ashamed to say it has a good hold on what I woke up to this morning. Also, its been a long time sense I've posted anything, so please be nice. Thank you.
**3 beers = Drunk
**He tried to have sex
**I’m still too young.
**He said I wasn’t sorry – but I am
**I love Daniel
**Very drunk at 3 beers
**Shouldn’t Drink
**He’s too young, just a little boy.
**I love him, but not the way he loves me.
**I am sorry.
**Have to call Daniel.
**Need to get my glasses.
I didn’t need the note to remind me of what had happened last night, but it was evidence enough - thought hard to read - to prove that I didn’t want what he had wanted of me.
Everything was fuzzy, but not so much so that I could shake the feel of his fingers reaching up my shirt or the way he would jerk quickly on my pants, trying to make them fall. And more then everything else, I remember how all those smothered, long-forgotten feelings resurfaced last night.
I had loved him once, had craved his touch – admired it really – until I had it. It was strong and protective because I knew that with him holding onto me, I would never be dropped. But at the same time, it was too aggressive, too heated, too much for me. I was too young, and am in fact, still too young.
But last night, I know it wasn’t about how much he loved me – which I’m almost certain has become very little in the last couple of months – but rather about wanting sex and revenge. Through my body is my only vulnerability and he knows that; and he takes advantage of that.
And last night, my body was vulnerable, because I’m a lightweight when I drink. Three beers are enough to keep me about as helpless as a newborn for a few hours, enough to ruin myself.
It wasn’t supposed to be just the two of us at first. No, the plan had been made for three: Vance, him, and I. But when Vance had baled on us, I was without a guardrail to hold the boundary between him and I. And I shouldn’t have gone without Vance. But the need for company was more then I could bear so I had gone.
And now I regret my decisions. Yes, I had been sober enough to say no. I had said it more times then I could count or recall but I remember saying it. Because I’ve moved on; he and I will never have another chance. I only hope that Daniel, my future, my real love, will forgive me.
I ripped the page from my notebook and fold it up tight, slipping into snuggly into my bra next to my heart to be certain that I wouldn’t forget. I rolled over in bed, grabbed the phone and dialed those seven little digits that have been imprinted into my heart and my head forever.
His voice mail picked up, and no wonder seeing as its only four in the morning, but I clear my throat and speak, “Hey babe, I just wanted to call and tell you how much I love you. And that, no matter what he tells you, I said no. I said no for you.” And I snapped the phone shut, curled into a ball and went back to sleep.
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