"...unrequited love does not die; it's only beaten down to a secret place where it hides, curled and wounded. For some unfortunates, it turns bitter and mean, and those who come after pay the price for the hurt done by the one who came before."
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January
I whimper desperately hoping I could somehow release all the alcohol from my system and sober up. I had to get her home. I clench my stomach trying to keep the content of my stomach down as I watch her expelling her guts into a flower pot. I massage her back making sure none of her hair was in the way.
All I needed was some time to think. I needed to be separated from Sam. With that separation, I was able to see what I wanted. I did a lot of soul searching while I was away. I scramble to try to haul her up off the cold cement. I place her on a nearby stump to check her face and body for cuts or bruises.
I couldn't get over how pretty she was in even in this circumstance. "I have to get rid of it" she slurs as I wipe her mouth with my bare hands. "I hear you, Sammie" I comb her hair back into place with my fingers. I listen to her drunken talk trying to put together the jest of what she was saying. I caught every other word about something needing to die and somebody not loving her; probably me.
The fact is I do love her- I do. Call me what you want, but I can't jump in a relationship with her. I thought I could. If knew all the things I knew now maybe things could be different. All I know is she's always my world even if she's not in it. I have to make sure every little last detail is right, and maybe I'll out wait my chance; so be it.
I'll rather have it right than any other way. "I-love-you-January" she held my name letting it drop off before she babbles something else illegible "I love you too" I announce straightening up her dress. She shakes her head pushing me away from her. "No, you don't" she objects holding her chest to burp swiping it away.
Several seconds later she jibbers "I don't know what to do" I couldn't understand the rest, but I could assume what it'll be. I look at her flushed face tinted red; she could barely keep her eyes open. I haul Sam onto her feet and place her arm around my shoulders.
"You got to work with me, okay?" I tell her asking the Lord above not to send us tumbling down these stairs. I kick off my heels deciding I need as much stability as possible. I finish up my silent prayer as we navigate back to the exit "You ready?" I plead opening the door. She felt almost lifeless. I wrapped around her torso guiding her noodle legs down the stairs one by one.
I should play the lottery. Luck is the only reason we safely made it back to the VIP section. I couldn't believe how fucked up everyone was. I'm so happy I decided to come. For all, I know Samantha could've literally drunk herself to death. I feel like that was the plan, and that's very concerning. She keeps talking about something dying... I didn't want to even think about so I wish she would stop bringing it up.
I sit Samantha on a nearby sofa "Love, where is your purse? Your keys? Anything?" I shake her a bit. "Pink bag in the back" she answers falling back to sleep. "No, mama. You got to get up" I slap her face. "Damn" I run off to find a back room and a pink purse. Several doors later, I find it. I come out realizing Lailah wasn't anywhere to be found. I guess I had my own set of problems to worry about. Like more stairs, we had to go down, for instance.
