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I don't know why she did it. Maybe it was because she hated me or maybe she just hated herself. Who the hell even knows. I don't remember much of what happened; it might have been because it was during a particularly drug-tainted part of my life or maybe the alcohol and sleep deprivation just got the best of me during those months. I couldn't forget that dress though. And the flowers. Oh the flowers. Pink and pretty. It seemed so out of place against her darkly tanned skin and black clothes. I'm not saying I did anything because I didn't. I never would have dared to. She was beautiful she was heartbroken she was sad but God did she look good. I on't think I could compare her to an angel nor could I ever call her perfect but she was there she was real she was gorgeous and if I wanted to she could have been mine. I didn't know her. Her face seemed vaguely familiar but back then most faces did; I probably wouldn't have been able to pick her from my own sister if they had been standing next to each other. Not that I have a sister. Not anymore at least. I can still imagine the way my hands shook lightly as I went up to her and offered to buy her a drink. It was not the first time I tried to pick a woman up at the bar but it was the first time I had ever met anyone so... Real so vulnerable in a place like it. I don't think I ever actually found out what she was doing there. She was one of those people that you just couldn't help but stare at even if you knew it was impolite. She didn't seem all that bothered by it. I wasn't the only one staring though. A few other people were as well. But like I said she was beautiful so I don't blame them. She accepted my offer. I bought her a drink. And then another one and another one and another one. One never seemed to be enough for her. I'm not sure I regret how the night turned out even if it ended with me washing puke off of my favorite pai of ripped skinny jeans witha stranger sleeping on my couch. The only thing I knew about her back then was her name and as I later would come to realize even that was false. I'm not saying she's a liar or perhaps I am but in her situation I don't blame her. Besides it's not like she would ever need anything from someone like me. Aside maybe from drugs. I can't even begin to explain to you how desperate she looked the first time she caught me blazing up. She was eyening my joint with a look that seemed like a mixture between fear and utter fascination. I don't think I regret sharing it with her. Or giving her all the other drugs along the way. I didn't know how it would affect her. I don't know if I would describe myself as an addict but I do know that quitting is not something I want to. She never managed to convince me to even after she changed again. God she went through so many personalities I don't even know where to start. She was so sad when I first met her; shy but not timid. She was quiet but loud all at the same time. Her presence in and of itself was screaming for atention while her personality just wanted to sit without anyone bothering her so she could drink herself to oblivion in peace. I still don't know why she even said yes to letting me buy her a drink that day. It's not like she couldn't afford it herself. I don't think she even wanted my company to start with. Or in the end actually. It wasn't just some vibe she was giving off. No actually she was rather easy to approach she wasn't threatening and there was nothing that wanred you to stay away from her but when she spoke. There was just something in her voice.... Something I couldn't quite put my finger on back then. Hell I don't even know what it was even now. I think maybe she hated me. If she did I wouldn't have blamed her. I'm not saying that I was an asshole and I'm saying that I'm one now I just know that I wasn't exactly they type of person that someone like her would usally hang out with nevermind the kind of person she should hang out with. I don't think I was ever much of a good influence on her. I know that much. The first time we met I was twenty-years-old and I was buying her a drink with a fake ID. Now that I think about it I'm actually fairly sure that she knew I was underage. I don't know how she knew but she did. The way she acted around me the way she would comment every time I drank... Either she knew I wasn't legally allowed to drink yet or she just really did not like alcohol. That of course is an option too but with the way she could hold her liqour and with how frequently she drank so much that she couldn't even walk straight I don't tihnk that was the reason why my drinking always seemed to bother her just a little. She was never really that obvious about it it was just kind of there. It was a thing that we didn't talk about but we both sill knew was there. Kind of like why she was even there. Why she stayed in my life. Why she entered it in the first plae. I knew she was desperate the first time I met her. It was clear as day I just didn't know why she was desperate. I know now of course. Not that there's really a lot I can do about it. It's too late now. Now I have the privilige of getting to spend the rest of my life thinking that if I had found out earlier maybe I could have done somethinhg. What a nice gift to leave me. Not that I ever really expected much from her. Of course I expected honesty of some kind. She had a habit of lying. A lot. I don't tihnk it was ever anything personal I just think that she didn't like people knowing her business. Me knowing her business. She was a private person and I can respect that. I'm not saying that I enjoyed her lies but I do admire how carefully crafted they were. She was an amaing actress. If she decided to tell you a story you would never be able to tell facts from fiction. She could imerse you into a world she was making up on the spot and you ould believe every word that fell out of her mouth because that was just the affect she had on you. I don't know why she meant so much to me. Why every word she said to me meant so much to me. Mybe I genuinely cared for her. Maybe I loved her. Maybe I wanted to screw her. Maybe it was all three or none of the above. I think I just liked the idea of her being there. She judged but in a way that made you feel like she forgave you for your mistakes at the same time. I neverreally understood the way she looked at me. Not at first anyway. There were a lot of secret glances small smiles genuine laughs - if you knew her well you would know that this was unusual for her. Unsurpsingily enough the drunker she got the more this side of her resurfaced. Whenever she was high she would act so... Careless. It wasn't that she didn't care though it was that she just didn't want to. She cared oh God did she care. I think she might even have cared just a little too much. She was so afraid of disappointing people but at the same time she constantly did things she knew could never possibly end well. Getting high and then going home was not exactly he best stragegy if you wanted to keep it under wraps that you're using drugs. She knew that she was disappointing her family when she came home like that. She knew and she cared and yet she did nothing. She could have stayed with me until it wore off when she was like that. At least in the beginning. Towards the end it got so bad that there wasn'ta single time of day where she wasn't either high or drunk. I don't like to judge her for what she did. I don't think I have the right to. I don't really blame her for it either; I can't even imagine what I woul have done if I was in her situation. I have to admit though that even I am disappointed in her. I wasn't always. I tried to reserve my judgement for other people. For people who would judge me back in a way that didn't ofer any kind of forgiveness. For people who judged in a way different than hers. I couldn't though. Not towards the end. I'm not saying that she did bad things - I mean she did things she shouldn't have done but it's not my place to decide whether or not that makes it bad things. She trid to get me mixed up in her messed up life. I wasn't intrested. I worried too much about her and I wanted her presence too much for my own good but I wasn't about to get messed up in something that I would never be able to get back out of again. I didn't want to hurt her but what was I supposed to do. She never directly told me waht had happened. What made her so desperate for comfort. I know what happened; everyone in this whole damn city does. I never talked to er about it though. It wasn't my place and I had noright to pry so we left it at that. She knew I knew and I knew she knew. I don't think I ever really figured out if she was being genuine or if she just wanted the comfort of bodily warmth for one night. I never did anything. I wouldn't have. I don't know if I'll regret never doing anything with her. I don't know if I'll regret never letting it progress further than a friendship that was too close for it to be good for any one of us. I never found out what she really wanted. I never asked. She never said. After that night she didn'tjust vanish. She came back. She got her fill of drugs and solitude hiding away in the in her eyes aparent safety of my little shitty two bedroom apartment. She came back. She never tried again. She never apologized. I never brought it up. We never spoke about it again. It had just happened and we were both aware of it but no one said anything. I can't quite remember wha I told her. I remember that it took hours to get rid of the feel of her lips on mine. Of her hands on my body. I don't think I'll ever forget completely but the memories are but a faded blur. A badly remembered dream that I'm not entirely sure what to label. I wish the flowers were a dream. Those damn pink flowers. I could never forget their name but I loved them and she knew. I don't think she meant any harm when she sent them to me. They reminded me of her. Pink and pretty. | ||||||||||||||
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