High On You (Phan) // Unfinished

Chapter 8

A/N: I was told to give a tw for this chapter, although that takes the suspense out of everything. So here ya go: tw for r*pe in this chapter.

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When I woke up I felt the after-depression start settling in. I immediately regretted my ecstasy roll and wish I could take it back. I checked my phone and saw first; that it was four in the afternoon; and second, that I had seven new text messages... six from Phil and one from my 'friend' Gregor, asking when we would smoke again together. Jesus Christ.

10:30 am: Oh. Um. You sent this at 5:04 am?? That's a bit late to go to sleep, don't ya think?

10:35 am: I'm gonna assume you're still sleeping.

12:07 am: You awake now?

12:12 pm: Guess not.

2:03 pm: Just... text me when you're up.

3:07 pm: Poor Leeloo's probably starving. Damn

3:48 pm: Dude wake up

I saw Leeloo laying at the end of my bed and realized I really did need to feed her.

"Meow."

"Yeah, I gotcha." I put my phone on my nightstand and grabbed two bowls from the kitchen. I put cat food in one and water in the other. I leaned down to pet her and she purred in appreciation, as I felt accomplishment rise in me, as though I had done something right. I liked that feeling.

I walked back into my room and grabbed my phone before I went into the living room again, sat on the couch, and turned on the TV.

I finally replied to Phil.

4:07 pm: Oh god I'm so sorry. I was sleeping that whole time, I... well, nevermind. Anyway I feel like shit so I would love to hang but I really can't.

I didn't just feel like shit because of the post-high depression that I knew would last for a few days. It was also because Phil had made me realize why I have been taking ecstasy for all these years. It was because I was struggling with thoughts about my sexuality, and instead of facing them I would just cover them up by a mixture of denial, self-hatred, and getting high.

Now what would I do? The same thing.

I need to get laid tonight. I'm straight. I've just had no sex life recently, so that's why I'm having all these thoughts about Phil. I just need to have sex with a girl again and I'll be fine.

4:10 pm: That's alright haha. But what were you doing..? I'm curious now

4:12 pm: It's not a big deal

4:15 pm: I feel like it is. Did you do something drug-related?

4:17 pm: ... yes.

4:19 pm: But why though? If you felt bad you could've told me and I would've talked.

You don't get it, Phil. When I feel bad is exactly when I can't talk to you. I might blurt something out or text something I wish I could unsend. You make my heart hurt more. Drugs numb it, you fucking spark it until I'm a confused mess. That's why I turn to drugs, not you. Because drugs make me feel happy temporarily. You could make me happy for a lifetime, but I can't let that happen because I can't feel the emotions towards you that I feel. They're wrong. And even if I accepted myself and let you in you could eventually break my heart and then I would just turn to drugs again. So what's the point?