retch

My head was so foggy and my eyes kept crossing on their own accord. I don’t remember drinking that much, but I guess I had. I stood politely waiting for the bathroom as all the alcohol started to come up. I hold it. I don’t want to be a bother. You get me a cup. That in itself was so gross most people would have left, but you didn’t. I think later about what happened to the cup. I am humiliated. I can’t help thinking as you stroke my back and tie back my hair “someone is taking care of me, someone cares about me.” I am used to taking care of other people and usually the favor isn’t returned. but this is something different. I guess it should be expected that if your friend gets sick, then you should take care of them. I sat next to girls I barely knew with their heads in the toilets on many college nights. I put girls to bed and tucked them in afterwards. I don’t usually find myself in compromising situations, but when I do, the one person I want to be taking care of me isn’t. This time was different. So even though my head was reeling and my stomach flopping, I was ok. It was terrible, but in a way it was kind of special.