That first sip that goes down your throat, feels a little uncomfortable and irritating. It stings but you don’t care because you are waiting for the reward. That first sip hits to specifically remind you of why you should take the next sip. It’s a tipsy wave that comes and goes in almost a second as if teasing you and you are back to normalcy sooner than you hope. You immediately stretch your right hand to pick up your glass and your left hand to pick up the vodka bottle with 47 per cent alcohol. This time you pour a double shot. It tastes like shit but you are after that amazing tipsy feeling that seduced you only after one shot and left you yearning for more. What a bastard!
You take some water and pour another double shot. You worry about the speed at which you are drinking and decide to dilute it with water so you can sip it slowly. It doesn’t taste like shit anymore and you claim your status on the table of responsible alcohol drinkers.
You sip slowly making sure you are still in control of your balance. You start to feel good. He suddenly shows up in your thoughts. Who else would be better to share this feel-good moment than with him! You think about all the things you would love to tell him for no other reason except that you would want him to know every part of you. You think about the last time you saw him and that passionate kiss that is still very fresh in your head. Sigh!! You finally admit to your tipsy self that you miss him.
He’s different and sometimes he makes you uncomfortable but you like it. When around him, things that were once absolutely scary to you don’t seem scary at all. These are your selfish reasons for wanting him around. You are changing for the better, they may look like trivial things to someone else but only you know that this trivial experience if applied to other parts of your life, will move you closer and closer the kind of human you wish to be.
Your heart warms and you imagine that if he was there, you would stretch out your hands and touch his face, your fingers on his temple and the soft part of your palm on his cheek and look at him without speaking but your eyes will say, “I am glad I met you. I am glad you exist. You are a fine collection of atoms and my only hope is that you are getting as much from me as I am from you”. You know you will never utter those words but you hope that someday, he will be able to read your eyes.
It’s almost been three hours. You stand up to go empty your bladder and realize you are about to lose your balance as you walk. You empty your bladder, then head to the kitchen to have some water. You take painkillers hoping it will stop the pending headache. You go to your room, get naked and jump into bed. You whisper a good night and his name afterwards then make sure the last thought in your head before you sleep is of him just looking at you and not saying anything because his eyes tell it all.
The hormonal shit happening in my body is on a whole new level. I snoozed my alarm clock for a bloody three hours. Thank goodness I did not have any work backlog. I do have a presentation tomorrow. The point of waking up early was to go through my documentation. I have to make sure there are no mistakes, add any new information and master that shit because I cannot look like I do not know what I am talking about during the presentation. I did engage in one of my guilty pleasures before sleeping the previous night hence my shameless snoozing. Hell, I do not know how my guilty pleasure and my snoozing are related but the two seem to be correlated.
I do actually get into work in time. I don’t exactly log in but I do reply to emails from my phone. I am working from home by the way. I do not log into Microsoft teams because being online will predispose me to tasks that I am not particularly interested in and can also be done by someone else. I am not in the mood for mundane tasks. My tits hurt too much for this.
As soon as I gather all the energy I need to work and feel proud of myself, my twatty neighbours start playing loud music from a genre I did not even know existed. I want to murder then, strangle them as I watch the life fade out of their eyes. Who the fuck plays loud music on Tuesday morning. I need to find a neighbourhood for introvert nerds. So I put on my headphones. I start playing “Portals” from “Avengers Endgame”, “All the strange strange creatures” and “This Is Gallifrey: Our Childhood, Our home” from “Doctor Who”, the David Tennant period. I blast this shit with my headphones. The decibels are enough to not harm my eardrums. Everything disappears and it is me and my work and I do not want to kill the bitches anymore.
It gets to 3 pm and for some reason, I am sad. I don’t know why I am sad. I try playing the sudoku puzzles that I had printed but it does not help. I try watching “Dr Stone” and end up getting angry at “Tsukasa”.
Its 5 pm and I do not know what to do with myself. It’s after work so I go offline. How is Marta doing?. She had a fever and has been indisposed all day. I like her because she has been nice to me our relationship has developed from colleague to friend. I am speaking for myself. I will check on her tomorrow. At the supermarket, I get myself some snacks, I am tempted to get cigarettes but I decide not to. On my way back to my place, the little devil on my shoulder urges me to pass by the liquor store and get some gin.
My feelings are still all over the place. But here I am ranting on a blog post because I don’t feel like bothering my dear friends with this information. I will instead bother you, my dear reader. I am tipsy enough to feel every single emotion. There has been a myriad of those emotions. Hope I will kill it in my presentation tomorrow which is on my least favourite topic.
I thought he was a very good looking human. When he opened his mouth, he turned into this being that had the quality of attracting any living being by inherent force that he is unaware of. This is the part where my self control had to come in play. He was enticing and appealing to all my existing senses. My vagina could be the one speaking right now but I honestly do not give a flying fuck. My vagina is a part of me and I fully approve of her hornyness and what she has to say.
I can’t understand what it is I feel for him and I don’t think I want to. No fun in that. I want spend a night with him. A night of whiskey, food, mind-blowing conversations and heavenly sex that will take me right in the middle of a orchestra starring angels playing music controlled by his rhythm with every note violently piercing through me, breaking all my walls and taming me into the most domesticated creature in existence. I want him to move his fingers lightly over my skin because the electric feeling that follows makes my loins frothy. I wanna run my fingers slowly down his temple and kiss him as though I aim to drain all feeling and desire from myself and rid me of him.