Surprise!

I fucked him.

It was raw and rough and fantastic. He made me keep my knee high stiletto boots on, he choked me, pulled my hair, threw me around. It was really fucking good.

Before he left, we stood in my hallway, talking. I was only half dressed, leaning against the wall. I told him I was moving to Florida. The look on his face was one of genuine sadness. It suddenly hit me that this guy, this random guy with the hots for me, cared more that I was leaving than my own mother did.

So I threw him out and cried for twenty minutes.

And then I got stoned.

I was already drunk. I smoked myself stupid, literally. I couldn't feel any kind of emotion whatsoever. I was completely void of anything human.

I must have sat in the middle of my room staring at nothing for a half hour. I'm surprised I didn't start drooling.

And then I felt something. It was a new feeling for me, an emotion I couldn't place. I didn't know what it was, but I didn't like it.

I slowly realized that I felt bitter. It consumed me, and I couldn't wrap my brain around anything but...bitter thoughts. I started to egg it on by looking at old pictures and reading notes that I should just throw away. I was fueling it.

I realized that I was crying by that time. I could physically feel the tears rolling down my cheeks, but I couldn't put an emotion to them. I still didn't feel anything but bitter.

I've felt tidbits of bitterness before. I've been cynical before, miserable. But never really, truly bitter.

And I can safely say I never, EVER want to be a bitter person.