I am trapped inside my head. No one cares. None of the other six people here can tell that inside my spirit is in upheaval. It all goes back to those two people who are sitting on the couch adjacent from me, and regardless of how I may pretend to be happy for them all I feel is the slimy hands of jealousy wipe their green slime all over my heart. So many people are happy. Why can’t I just be happy too? I take another pull on the drink that I have in my hand. I’ve forgotten just what I am drinking right now, and what does it even matter so long as it gets me to that point where none of the jealousy can pierce through the haze.
She is falling asleep in his arms, arms that I myself have envisioned wrapping around me as I listened to the lullaby of his heartbeat against my ear. No one can doubt that they look great together. Both of them are slender and beautiful. It’s no wonder that he would choose her over me; I always lose out on love because someone more lovely that me comes along. I feel so tainted. My past filters through the mask I wear to those who know me well, and it makes me feel ugly. I was weak against my father’s constant remarks on how I looked like a cow, and when he wanted to really hurt me he would moo at me. It’s no surprise that the man I was starting to vision myself with would want someone who was the opposite of the cow I had always been told I was.
Alcohol is starting to buzz through my veins, and the room around me is growing hazy… I can still see them though. It’s like a photograph of the aftermath of a tornado, I just couldn’t look away. I looked down and realized my bottle was empty, so I switched to straight rum, ‘the better to get you drunk as hell my dear’. Soon I couldn’t see straight at all, the two people on that couch became nothing more than blurs. I smiled to myself and thought, ‘I am happy now.” Eventually everything started to run together and I then my world went dark. I didn’t have to feel so ugly anymore, because when you enter your dreams everything happens the way you wish it. Good night depression, good morning fantasy.