Serenity - A Journal Of Some Sort

it's 3 am

I'm eating rice dressing at 3 AM.

I'm sitting in the kitchen, sticky and sweaty, in my white and pink pajamas, leaned up against the sink and a whole tray of cold rice dressing cradled in my arms. The buzzing refrigerator light illuminates the scene and I'm shivering in place, but I still keep shoving food in my face because who the hell cares anymore?

I can still hear the people on the other side of the cove popping fireworks. I would have thought they would have stopped, given it's freaking 3 o'clock in the morning and the fourth of July was officially over hours ago.

Taking another frosty bite, I vaguely recall passing out on the couch after coming back from the trip to that nasty beach. I'm positive I have at least 7 furious text messages from my boyfriend that I forgot to answer before I fell asleep, probably wondering what the hell happened to me.

Half asleep, I keep eating. I don't remember changing into my pajamas. I don't remember much except for the fact that no one cooked supper. Funny thing is, I've never actually liked rice dressing before. It just seemed so appetizing in the moment.

I'm nearing my last breath and I realize it I eat any more I'll probably suffer heartburn for the rest of the night. With a sigh, I set the dish down with a clatter. I halfway expect someone in the cabin to wake up.

No one does.

So, pulling together the last bit of my energy, I lift the platter back up and place it in the fridge, not wondering for a moment whether someone would notice half the dressing was gone in the morning or not. I just didn't care. I didn't care.

I kick the fridge door shut with the back of my heel and trudge back to the sofa, where the enticing softness of the dog blanket and the dusky sofa pillows awaits me. I step on my phone as soon as I'm nearing it, and the cold glass sends a tingle up my spine along with the reminder that I still hadn't answered my boyfriend in what, 5 hours? Oops.

I pick up the phone and read through the multiple texts he had sent me. Most of them asking how I've been, where I was, what I was up to, then eventually him giving up and wishing me a good night and telling me he loved me. He had sent me pictures and videos of the 4th of July party he'd attended and invited me to. But it wasn't my fault my parents had decided to take me on a trip to Toledo Bend instead.

A part of me felt remorse because I knew he cared but a part of me was furious because of the way he'd been treating me before and had never owned up to, and was acting like nothing was wrong. And all of these actions and all of these emotions threatened to overwhelm me, and I could feel the tears start to well, but I pushed them down as a new mindset overcame me.

It's 3 AM in the morning on my only vacation of the summer. Why should I be crying?

So with a huff, I put the phone down. I'd come up with some lousy excuse in the morning probably. I rolled over on the sofa and covered my head with the pillow, praying that my uncle wouldn't be up in an hour getting ready to go fishing, because what good sleep would I get then?

Guess that's what I get for sleeping on the sofa.