• The drunken thoughtlessness of an evening can seem so easily appealing. So easily achieved. Mistakes, oh mistakes, never have I made such conscious mistakes.

   

  After a bottle of wine, maybe a few more. The music was suited, intense then changing. Light hearted. I said “Lets swim!” and promptly undressed myself, you didn’t hesitate either and soon we were diving, swimming until there was nothing. Until you were nothing, until they were nothing. All I could do was swim, as if my life depended on it. I liked the burning, the too cold summer water swishing past my ears, filling the gaps between my fingers.

   

  Your voice pulled me back, slashing through my head, “Get out of the fucking water, are you mad? It is freezing.”

   

  Eyes blood shot, chlorine induced, someones shirt wrapped tightly around my shoulders. Scrabble came next. Then Lee got sick, crying, she needed to be warm and in bed. “Here drink this, its water, you’ll be just fine, I love you too..” Scrabble continued. We continued. Glimpses, and me secretly hoping that you saw as I looked away.

   

  More wine. I need to pee, ended up swigging Ret’s whisky in the bathroom. It’s not ok. Burns the back of my throat, as the tears sting my eyes. This is ok. New dose of bravery.

   

  The grass outside and a newly lit cigar. Counting 1 2 3.. GO! nothing. Mike leaves. Right, this is what I wanted, it’s what I had hoped of this evening, conscious.

   

  You won’t stop saying my name, eventually I don’t know whether you’re crying or laughing. Kissing. Under the blanket of this conscious mistake I so wilfully made. Stop stop stop. No, sweaty palms on my back, my shoulders, my tummy, my  neck. Teeth, grazes, grass burns.

   

  “Get up, let us go inside, it’s raining, Ret might come out?” Stumbling you get up, curling your toes over the edge, unconsciously wrapping my arms around your waist, you pissing. Embarrassed I go inside on my own.

   

  “You’re crying? Why? Please stop, please please please” Wrapping your body around me, you’re not breathing. I’m still too drunk to make a sense of realisation. 

   

  Tremmor. Clutching your sweaty palms. Realisation. Run. “Ret! Wake up. He’s not breathing.” Run. Ret places one hard ‘WACK!’ across your chest. Breath. “Let’s go Bro, time for bed”

   

  Climb into my conscious mistake. Have sex with Ret. Wake up 5am. Facing a shitty headache.

   

  I don’t feel terrible, should I?

   

  I feel ok. Please remember. Don’t remember.

   

  “Like you said, nothing happened. Ret’s like a brother to me, and I know you love him, we can’t ruin that.”

   

  Please ruin it, my life oh please do.

   

  Stop it!

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