Page 88 of Intoxicated
Chapter 29
DREW
You know what sucks the most?
I was fucking in love with her.
Sure, laugh. Point at me and tell me what a lousy fucker I am. I probably deserve it. After the number of hearts I’ve broken, it was bound to happen to me. Karma, or some such.
Fuck me. Fuck her. Fuck us. I hate everything.
This isn’t mere post break-up emo bullshit I’m suffering. This is…depression.God, maybe I am man enough to admit it. Cher not only fucked with my heart, but my head as well. She drove a stake right into one and fried the other. What did it, though? Was it those crazy good looks, the suave smile she laid on me every time I beheld her… or that perfect pussy that grabbed me by the balls every time I fell for her trap?
I believe all three of them. When a man falls in love, even for the first time, he’s liable to make some seriously bad decisions.
It’s so clear for me to see now. I loved that hot mess of a woman. She worked me as well as she worked any man, but I saw a side of her not many got to witness, I bet. While I never saw her heart on her sleeve or the empathetic tears of someone who isn’t a raging narcissist, there was information thatIwas privy to, but nobody else ever heard. She was human in her own way around me. A confident gal who didn’t care if I heard her body’s natural functions or saw the blood of her womanhood. (Okay, so she definitely cared about that, but we got over it, huh?) This was a woman I met again at a freakin’ STD clinic. Nothing was sacred between us. I told her about my friend in college, for fuck’s sake.
She changed me. Cher is the reason I’m getting out of this stupid line of work and doing something better with my life.
She’s the reason I’m lying in the dark, drinking myself half to death.
All right, so I’m not drunk 24/7, but I’m not in a hurry to get out of here, either. There’s nothing for me beyond my Seattle apartment. I used the last of my pride to drive up here, if only to get the hell away from the woman who refuses to admit what she is.
I don’t… care about that. Maybe I did the wrong thing by telling her – let alone when my cum was dripping out of her – but it had been such a clear-headed thought that it was like every filter on my mouth came flying off and smacked her face.
Cher isn’t your average woman. Not the one who likes it a little rough every once in a while. I’m convinced it’s the only real way she gets off. Maybe not balls-to-the-wall flesh-slapping sex full of naughty words and hair-pulling, but she definitely needssomethingnaughty to keep her interested in the bedroom. I thought her detachment from slower lovemaking had more to do with neglecting room for dirty things likefeelingsand less to do with boredom. I’ve never met a woman who hated slow and sensual things so much. Did she realize it? Is the reason she dumped me because she didn’t want to hear those truths?
I see now how it could be taken the wrong way. Women aren’t supposed to be like that, huh? That’s a message yours truly got loud and clear growing up. Women aren’t supposed to enjoy sex. Are we crazy? Only “fallen” women, as my biological grandmother would put it, like it in any capacity outside of martial relations. Because they’re Jezebels, or something.
Let’s face it. Jezebel is an amazing name, and one that perfectly suits Cher.
Do I have regrets? God, yes. I shouldn’t have said what I did, let alonewhenI did. You’d think I was the guy who got off on hurting women’s feelings. Hey, just because I did it for a semi-living doesn’t mean Ienjoyedit. Maybe there was a hint of satisfaction on behalf of the friend I lost, but… fuck it, I’m over that now. Harry is somewhere in Heaven shaking his head over my whole damn life since he left this earth.
I kinda get it now, though. Why it hurts so much when the worst woman in the world dumps your ass. Especially if you loved her.
Especiallyif you loved her.
What hurts more? The fact that I have loved and lost, or the fact that the woman I love is probably out there right now working on her next target?
I’m no fool. She doesn’t love me back. Clearly, I hurt her feelings, but any guy with the right dick and arsenal of words could hurt her feelings. She might be plotting her revenge against me right now. That’s part of the reason I came back to Seattle. Get away from the more emotional memories. Get away from her reach.
Am I going to be one of those guys who sees her around and feels the sting? Or am I special enough that I will fall over in a wave of my own vomit because it hurts so damn much? I’m convinced that most of the other men who think they loved her didn’treally.They didn’t see the parts of her that I did. How could they love her if they didn’t hear her most annoying laugh or see her blood all over their beds? The woman suggested that I’m a disease-riddled assbutt by going to an STD clinic. Do you think your average Joe would still be enamored with her after that? What Cher and I had was… special. Yeah. That’s the word. Special.
I kinda want to die.
