Wine, Nights, Flavored Vodka

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Wine

You are either tasting sweet heaven, or a dry bitterness. Red or white? Total preference. Chardonnay is too bitter even with cheese. And yet merlot tastes the opposite, sweet, like the temptation of kissing the boy with the sweet eyes. Like the temptation of feeling life at your fingertips. So you let him kiss you. You feel his kiss first soft, become deeper, more urgent, and his hands begin to touch your physical being. You will at first smile, then become hesitant, does he even like you? or is this just…sex. The hook-up culture. In nights of cheap wine and the bitter taste of weed. But that night you have no drugs circulating your system. You are soberly kissing the boy with the sweet eyes and curly hair, you are letting him take your shirt off, you stop for a second, suggest the mattress be on the floor, the bed squeaks.

As you lay with him the kissing continues, the light is off, more clothes come off. You convince yourself that this will only be sweet paradise. You are tasting a brand of sweetness that has no guarantee, but you continue. Condoms? well at least you have some. Did he intend to have sex with you? He has none. You struggle with the unopened box. And finally fling one at him. As he goes inside you. Think back at your dilapidating relationship. Feel like you are shedding an old skin. Don’t look at him. Just feel him react. Then suddenly feel the finale on his part. Be polite and pretend. Pretend that you too have felt something.

It’s the night. Lay on your bed next to him, feel your heartbeat, enjoy the feeling of not immediately breaking away to take a shower. Comment on the pace of your heartbeat. Did everything happen too fast? Lay next to him as he checks social media websites. Did you smile? Let him hold you. Love the feeling that he brings you. But don’t expect more. As you sleep, dream of him. This has never happened. He is a rare phenomenon. You finally feel connected to someone.

Wake up in the morning, sober, no physical hangover, instead emotional turmoil will begin to storm your mind. feel the rush, eat cereal, sit next to the foot of the mattress as he sleeps. Look back. Never has a boy just slept in your room during the day, recall his arms around your body. Normal events with a touch of enchantment. spend the last two hours before he leaves once more in his arms, touch his hair, feel the pecks of his lips on yours, open your eye and see his, smile. And then watch him leave, see your room once more empty. And walk out. Get a text about his left behind charger, feel excited to see him again, but don’t expect it.

You got drunk, and now you are once more sober, without the good feeling of the boy with the curly hair and pretty eyes. Resort to nights of flavored vodka and wine with your friends. Will he ever come again?

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