Oh life... Haven't been that kinda drunk for a long long long time... Let's see, last time was 9 months ago, I was like super drunk and I got him by my side... He was there with me to celebrate the thing we called "love", freely and gladly. I was melting in his arms, he was leading my body, my soul, my everything on the dance floor... "Shall we dance?" -- He asked. I smiled, looked up to his face with twinkling eyes, his hands landed on my waist 2 seconds later. And so we boogied down with "Yeah", "Confession", "In Da Club", "Disco Inferno", and "Candy Shop". Half way thru, he suddenly pulled me up against him, and there came the sweetest kiss ever in my life... Then we slowed it down a lil bit with "Mr. Lonely", "Everything I do, I'll do it for you", and "Beautiful". I was half drunk with four shots of tequila already drained down my throat, and my body was slightly staggering, but his arms were firm on my hip, caught me and straightened me up every single time I was about to fall... Yeah, it was pretty wild, now in retrospect I can't remember how many times we kissed each other that nite, but no matter how many there were, all were nothing but sweet, hot, and full of sweat, that I'm sure of...
Oh yeah, that nite bears a huge resemblance to last nite rite? I realized... Last nite I got almost all the same songs, the same drinks, the same make up, but not the same mentality
) Huge difference, ladies and gentlemen
) I was drunk but not for the same reason as it was 9 months ago, I was drowned in tequila and, this time not sweat, but tears. It was damn like that cool spring nite of March in Miami 9 months ago, only the bar last nite was smaller with more thumbs-down singers... And there it came, the destructive melody of "Don't Speak", floating in the air like the ghost of my past romance, stifling me with every single tune. That was when tears began to trickle down my cheeks, and he did not understand... This time another "he"...
Oh well, then drama started to make itself home. We were fighting over, first, one glass of whiskey, and then, a bottle of cognac. It must have looked ridiculous, since I was constantly warded off by him. Well, nothing surprising, coz even in perfect health I would not be an opponent of equal strength for him. He let me finish my glass of whiskey, no ice, straight up. But then he said it was a mistake and swore to God I would have had to step over his dead body to get another shot. And what was his reason? Simply "because I love You", which I don't really understand. If he loved me, why didn't he just let me be dead drunk as I wished? Didn't I tell him a million times being drunk would help? In one's life, there's gotta be times when being drunk seems like the most convenient solution at hand. And my last time was 9 months ago, didn't I tell him also...
And then nastiness came along... I threw up, was lifted up by him and carried to bed, and threw up again. My head was spinning and my mind was absolutely empty. There was just a whirlwind inside of my head, which led me toward the toilet like an instinct. He padded me on the back when I was vomitting, then he was rubbing my temples, my chest and my back with medicated oil. I was half unconcious, and was no stronger than a paper doll, so my body was at his mercy. And so the nite dragged on, heavily stuffed with liquor, bad memories and tears...
Such is one of the pretty peaceful days in my life...
