My Mumbling Thoughts

There was no calm before the storm, or even a calm after the storm. It seems as if we were just hit with one of the biggest drama hurricanes this flat and my lot has ever seen. Why? Because this past Friday I told boy Sam's girlfriend that I slept with him before the Christmas holidays while he was still with her.

It was supposed to be a fun night, and for the most part it was. I went out, bopped a good bop like usual and kept out of trouble (well, major trouble anyway). Drunk Sharon was out in full force abusing strangers and talking trash the entire time. It seemed like it was just going to be a normal bop evening for us, and a decent one at that seeing as none of the Bede boys were out. They decided to expand out into Camden for the evening.

Most of the evening is a blur for me, seeing as before I even left the flat, I was already pretty far gone. That's what I get for drinking an entire bottle of cheap wine to myself in the span of an hour. However, there is one moment that sticks out pretty clear in my mind. When I was standing with Stacey (one of Zoe's friends who has moved down to London), I saw out of the corner of my eye, Carlene. She was standing outside where most of the smokers go, and she was talking to Katie, boy Sam's girlfriend. It sounds insane, but in that moment, that's all I could see. I couldn't hear Stacey talking to me, and everything was slow. Something switched inside of my brain and I was overtaken by something that compelled me to march up to her and spill my entire guilty conscious right on her lap.

I only remember bits and pieces of my confession...

"You don't know me, but I slept with your boyfriend. I'm so, so sorry. Before Christmas at their party. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."

I cried with her, and then immediately left the bop to sob all the way home by myself. I called Helen. I called Trish. And somehow, they appeared like beacons to my drunken side, and walked me the rest of the way home.

I couldn't stop crying, and wow was I ever drunk. I smoked, and smoked, and smoked some more. I couldn't not tell her. She had to know. Perhaps I could have picked a better time and place to tell her, but either way, she needed to know.

And I was so pissed off with boy Sam for not doing it himself. He told me the next morning that he would "deal with it." That it wasn't my problem to worry about and that I should just forget about it. If only I could.

I've done some shitty things in my short lifetime, and I've done quite a lot of stuff that I'm not proud of, and I've tucked it away neatly in my little black box that sits in the back of my mind. But this was not going to be one of those things. She didn't deserve to be made to look like a fool every single day that went by without her knowing. Everybody knew. Everyone except her. And all I kept on seeing in my mind was how she was so completely, obliviously happy, and how he got away with pulling a cover over her eyes.

When Carlene managed to get home, we had a serious shouting match. She had stayed with Katie to console her, and be her shoulder to cry on for over an hour.

"And where were you when I needed you, huh? What about me, who you consider one of your best friends?!"

She called boy Sam and told him what happened, because she thought that he deserved to know. As if he wouldn't find out. Why should he get to know so quickly, and Katie had to wait? Katie had to find out from the other girl. Katie didn't get a head start, so to speak.

I passed out sometime around five in the morning and heard my phone receive a text message at half seven. It was a message from boy Sam, saying if what he heard was true, then "I was dead."

Even in my sleep/drunk state, I still managed to send him a nasty response with no spelling errors. I was quite pleased with that.

"Fuck you! It was a fucking mistake. But I'm not going to fucking stand there and lie! I didn't do it to be malicious and a bitch to you. You're just fucking pissed because your dirty secret is out. If you would have been a fucking man and owned up to it in the beginning, none of this would be happening. I feel bad for Kate. She could do a fucking world better than you!"

Quite possibly the longest text message I have ever sent. I didn't get a reply to it either.

The next morning I was woken up by Santos, asking me to come over next door for a brew. I peeled my eye lashes apart, rolled out of bed and washed the dried tears off of my face. My knees had fresh bruises on them (because I always fall down when I've drank too much), my pink nail polish was chipped and my eyes were so swollen I could barely see.

I felt like shit, and the night before felt like a really bad dream.

Uni is a land mine now. I carefully look out with each step I take and stare painfully hard at the ground if I see somebody I notice, and turn the volume up loud on my iPod. It feels like everybody knows and now I'm "that girl" that told "that other girl" about sleeping with her boyfriend.

I knew what I was doing when I did it. I knew what the consequences were going to be. I knew that not everyone would agree with me doing it, and that there would be arguments.

But I also knew that she is a virgin. And I knew that the guy she was with was a liar and a cheat that didn't really care about her. And I knew that if it were me in her position, I'd want to know so I could dump the loser I was with and find someone that wouldn't say, "I don't care."