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EM
No problem. I’m not back at work until Monday, so if you want to go for Sunday lunch somewhere tomorrow, we can?
LEE
I don’t think that’s such a good idea.
Tears begin to pool in my eyes, and my stomach flips as nausea overtakes me. Only this sickness feeling has nothing to do with the hangover, and everything to do with feeling like I’ve just ruined the best thing I have going on in my life at the moment. I have no idea how to do damage control on this—or if I even should—but I know I need to try.
EM
If this is about the drunken message I sent last night, please ignore everything I said. I was drunk, and I barely remember ringing you. I do know that by that point in the evening I was being fuelled by vodka, and didn’t mean most of what I said. Don’t let one drunken message ruin the good thing we’ve got going on here.
I know it sounds desperate, but honestly, I don’t really have a lot of choice. I wish I could stay true to what I said, and be confident in myself, knowing that if he doesn’t want me, someone else will. But that’s the thing, I don’t want anyone else. I know I don’t really have Lee, and holding out for something that chances are it won’t ever happen is a little crazy. But losing a guy I have here and now, that I really fucking like, or something that might happen feels stupid.
All these different thoughts are flashing through my mind, and my fragile brain can’t take it. Even though I’m still lying down, I start to feel dizzy again, those telltale black static spots swimming in front of my vision. I clamp my eyes closed and focus on taking a couple of deep breaths. The more I focus the more the nausea subsides too.
As soon as my phone buzzes, my eyes fly open and I fumble around trying to get the message open. It feels as though someone is stabbing my temple with a red hot poker, and the speed at which my lids flew open has made my eyes burn, but I don’t care. I have to read what he says.
I notice Lee’s name on the screen, but it’s hard to read anything as the message is blurry. I reach over to grab my glasses, though I can usually see my phone just fine, as my issue is with distance. So it’s not that much of a surprise that when I do put my glasses on, it doesn’t solve my vision issue.
I blink a couple of times, trying to soothe my tired, burning eyes, but nothing seems to be helping. When I hold the phone a little further away, and close my right eye, so I’m just looking out of my left, I can see the phone a little clearer. I swap eyes just to check, and sure enough, it’s definitely my right eye that’s causing the blurred vision. This isn't usually a symptom I get with a hangover, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t one. I did drink a fucking lot last night, so it doesn’t surprise me. Headaches can manifest in lots of different ways, this one is just a really fucking irritating variation.
Closing my right eyes, and holding the phone a little closer, I quickly fumble to pull up Lee’s message, whilst I silently pray to any fucking deity that is listening.Please give me a little more time with him.
LEE
I know you were drunk but there’s always some truth to a drunken message. I like you too, Em, and that’s why I don’t want to hurt you. I know you feel my actions can be a little misleading, but my words have always remained the same. I don’t want a relationship. Not just with you, but with anyone. I’m not going to change my mind on that. I’m worried that if we keep seeing each other, it will blur the lines for you even more. I don’t want that.
I wipe away the stray tear that’s managed to break free from the corner of my eye, and try to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. My stomach rolls, and this time I know there’s no stopping it. I roll out of the bed, and push through the pain and dizziness as I run to the en-suite.
I make it to the toilet just in time to unload my stomach contents into the toilet. I sink onto the cold bathroom floor, the hardness of the lined floor against my bare legs makes me shiver. As I lean back against the concrete wall, the coolness hits my back sending goosebumps across my body, while I keep my arms firmly locked around the toilet bowl. I’m so sick I don’t even have a chance to think of how disgusting it is here on the bathroom floor.
The pain in my head increases, and it feels like that hot poker continues to stab away above the right side of my head, at the back of my eye. With all that pain, it’s not surprising that my vision is blurry. I can feel tears trailing down my face, and I try to tell myself it’s from vomiting. But we both know it’s not. Lee’s message hurts worse than any hangover headache ever could.
I know this is the perfect time to walk away. Lee and I are looking for different things, that much is clear. Yes, I hurt now, but he’s right, the longer we drag this out for, the higher my hopes will get and the further they will have to fall.
But there’s that nagging feeling in the back of my mind that I just can’t ignore. The one telling me that I can’t let him go. I’m not bothered what might happen, I just can’t ignore the part of my brain that’s screaming at me not to lose Lee. I don’t know how I know this, or why. But Lee is important, and I have to fight for him.
When I finally feel safe that I can stand up without emptying what little is left in my stomach, I move back over to the bed. The room spins, and I curse myself for drinking so much last night. I’ve never been this hungover where I’m so dizzy I can barely walk, and my vision is so blurry, it’s hard to see. I need to sort this thing with Lee and then I need to go straight back to bed.
EM
I’m a big girl, and I know what I can handle and what I can’t. You’ve made your feelings perfectly clear, and I’m okay with that. If you still want to, I want to keep the whole friends-with-benefits thing going. I know the risks, and I’m willing to take them.
I see those dreaded two ticks light up as he comes online and reads my message. Time seems to tick by at an impossibly slow speed after that as I wait for his response. My stomach starts to do somersaults again, and although it feels like I might be sick again, I don’t think I have anything left in my body.
Reaching over I take a sip from the bottle of water on my bedside table, and I’m actually surprised by how nice the cool liquid feels in my mouth. I hadn’t realised how icky my mouth had felt until that moment.
LEE
I think maybe we both need to spend some time apart and think about it. I’m not saying no, as I do like spending time with you, and of course the sex is amazing. But I don’t want to lead you on.
Too fucking right the sex is amazing, and the mere act he’s admitting he likes me is a step in the right direction. I don’t know if I’m proving his point by saying this, because of course there will always be a part of me that hopes he changes his mind. I’m still a logical person, and if he’s saying that’s how it is, then I will believe him. He doesn’t have to know I’m holding out for more. Besides, it’s my heart that’s on the line, so it’s my risk to take.
EM
You can’t be leading me on if I know where we stand. The sex is amazing, and I can’t thank you enough for the confidence you’ve given me. But I know how to switch off my emotions and just enjoy the sex. We can spend some time apart, but I know I will still want to do the whole friends-with-benefits thing with you. Even if we were to cut out the sex—which I really fucking hope we don’t do—you are still probably one of my best friends, and I don’t want to lose that.
