Jason
After leaving the trailer, I stumbled onto a block party and just invited myself in. I stopped counting drinks after a while—the beer just flowed endlessly down my throat. My failed attempt at drowning out all of the chaos in my head and heart. Nothing could quiet my thoughts.
I fucked Gabe.
And it was everything.
Everything I ever wanted. All of the missing pieces fell into place.
The gravel moves beneath my feet, and I collapse onto the road that snakes through the trailer park.
I pick myself up and walk toward the trailer that holds the keeper of the missing pieces.
Gabe’s like a dark angel who descends from the sky to kiss the pain away.
He tasted the way I imagine fire would taste if it didn’t burn your tongue.
The door swings open. It’s late—the middle of the night.
My hands grip furniture to keep from falling on my ass in the darkness.
I’m in that weird state of drunkenness where I’m consciously aware that I’m out of control.
My brain has split in half, and one part watches my dumbass stumble about the trailer while the other sinks into the hopelessness that comes when I let my deepest, darkest fears consume me.
Invincibility emerges after three or four drinks. That’s when I’m a party—ready to fuck or fight. I just go wherever the mood takes me.
But once I move beyond six or seven drinks, the sadness seeps in, and I start hating the world for everything it’s done to me.
My feet shuffle toward the bedroom to find Gabe sleeping on his bed.
I’m so drunk that I see two of him. One Gabe is already turning my world upside down, but two?
I want to collapse on top of him—to wrap him up in my arms and pull him close. I want to smell his hair and watch his eyes flutter as he sleeps. If I get close enough, maybe I’ll stop seeing double. Then I can see him clearly.
Gabe looks beautiful when he sleeps. Peaceful.
Fuck me.
That realization makes me push off the doorframe and collapse onto the sofa.
I lean back, letting my body sink into the not-so-soft cushions, and watch the world spin.
It felt so good being with Gabe. Is it really that bad to let him in again? He apologized. He gets it now.
Can’t I just be with him for a little bit?
Don’t I deserve to feel good for once?
I keel over on the couch, gripping my aching stomach. Does it hurt from the booze or the idea of letting Gabe back into my heart? If I let him in, what next? Do I just stay in this trailer with him and live across the road from Doug?
And what if Gabe hurts me again? Can I really trust him?
I think I might puke.
I can’t do this right now. Sleep. That’s what I need—to sleep this off and make a decision when I'm not a mess…
But am I ever not a mess?