Pills for Breakfast

I rolled over and pushed my face into the pillow. The sun streamed in the window around the edges of the dark drape I had hung to keep it out and stabbed my eyes as my morning headache filled my sinuses. This headache was getting to be a reoccurring daily theme. I untangled my hair from my face blinking into the dim light of the bedroom. My mouth felt like someone had laid shag carpeting in it and I knew I needed to get up to spit the vile slime out of my throat so I wouldn't start choking. There are several bottles of pills waiting for me by the sink. My bladder painfully stabbed me to let me know it still existed and was upset that it was full. I pressed my palms into my eyes ignoring my body's various complaints trying to assure myself that today was going to be different. I knew I was probably telling myself a lie.

I'd been in love with several different men this last year. They were all men I had been in love with before and each time we met it always ended in some disaster or another. This year was no different. It was a routine I had become comfortable with in an odd sort of way. Love someone. Make sure the emotions are complicated. Make sure the situation is even more complicated. Make sure someone gets hurt (usually me). Lather. Rinse. Repeat. At least these meetings of bodies and emotions were always brief so I always had lots of time afterwards to dwell on what had happened and how it had gone wrong so quickly so I could actively apply my expertize in over-analyzing.

I had my beautiful lover in the summer heat whom I laid with on the beach as he got increasingly uncomfortable with my presence. I still can't figure out why he wanted me there in the first place. I had considered just drowning myself in the waves to make the whole situation less tense. There was my lover in the fall who swooped in with a surprise phone call at 3 o'clock in the morning, fucked me hard through the morning in a hotel room, and swooped back out when his ex-girlfriend made her usual plea for his savior complex. This has been our usual arrangement for when he is in town for several years. There of course was the man I have known since I was a teenager whom took my tender virginity after we had made sure to be as drunk as humanly possible and still standing one night a very long time ago. The love, however, I feel for him seems to be moving into a place of deeper friendship than I ever thought possible for the two us. I found myself adoring his girlfriend and meeting his other girlfriend and liking her a lot too. They've made sure to make me a part of their group of friends and every time we go out dancing and drinking all together I end up having a great time despite myself. I often think we should do it more frequently. We always end up telling stories to everyone else about our youthful escapades the drunker we get. I'm sure everyone is sick of hearing the same stories over and over again but we just can't help expounding on our shared history.

As I lay in bed cursing the sun and the dull pain behind my eyes I thought of the people who have slipped into my life and into my bed over the years. Then I thought about how nice it is to have this big bed all to myself as I was stretching my limbs out to the four corners with the cats murmuring as I gently nudged them. Four years ago, or maybe it's five years now, when I broke up with my last officially sanctioned boyfriend, I swore I won't get into another relationship and mostly I've kept that promise to myself. I don't like who I turn into when I have to be around someone else for too long but then again I can't seem to stop myself from loving people. Maybe I do it so I have something to write about. Maybe I do it to drive myself crazy. Maybe I do it have something else to think about other the ennui that seems to be taking me over on a daily basis. Maybe I do it so I can get laid. I close my eyes and think about the new attractive young man I seem to be developing a crush on.

My bladder stabs me again and I finally get up to pee.