She was crying in the middle of the street. The street that had become a source of joy to a form of deception. The girl that had become a source of joy to a form of deception. I watched her as she dry heaved into an alleyway.
“Our ride’s here!” the seniors screeched from a few feet away.
“She’s not ready.” my boyfriend said as they picked her up as though she was a wounded soldier. His opinion did not matter as he did not know them or this girl.
They placed her in the front seat as the sober driver drove the clown car back to our homes. I was forced to sit on someone’s lap as we had packed the car beyond its capacity.
“I expected this to be you…” the girl on my team said to me in an obvious hint that it was my twentyfirst. I readjusted my position to get a better look at my friend. She was crying, fresh puke lining her mouth and cheek. The side of the car was splattered, and from the obvious smell lingering in the air, the car interior needed to be washed.
My friend had seen her ex, and after that there was no coming back from the downward spiral. She had become hypnotized by the pain and regret of leaving someone she loved, and the constant drinks coming her way helped her to forget. However, forgetting was not possible. Sometimes love cannot be forgotten but intensified by numbing your brain and body. I knew this all too well from my last break up, nothing can change your feelings but time.
Wind hitting her face, it would seem like she was asleep if not for the whimpering and the gags. I could feel the wind picking up some of the contents of her stomach and hitting me in the face. Somehow, I was unbothered and grateful to be hit in the face with someone else’s misfortune rather than my own.
This last line is so intriguing and I think the sentiment resonates with all of us: ” Somehow, I was unbothered and grateful to be hit in the face with someone else’s misfortune rather than my own.”