The First Night Out (after a heartbreak)

Yeah, I'm going to jump right into it friends and let you all know where I am at with my life as it continues to fall into shambles. I am in my fifth year of my studies and I have never disliked my classes more than I do now (remind me why I thought it was a good idea to take English courses!) and I have not been able to get my mind off of J. Sorry for making my issues yours (a direct quote from one of my best friends) but if you are reading this blog, you knew this was coming at some point.

Luckily, I have the best friends in the world and they forced me out of the house last Thursday night at the same place we always go---- If you are a dedicated fan of my blog, you know exactly the place that I am referring to. If not, well I will enlighten you. So! Picture a small square building with a massive lineup outside unless you arrive at 10pm. Now picture two poles that the DJ encourages you to dance on, bathroom stalls that don't lock and a lack of toilet paper for you to access after you've squatted and hovered for a solid minute or so all while trying to keep that door shut from the other girls trying to use it. Think about how you have a specific pair of shoes that you wear to this club because they are complete trash after they've been stepped on, stuck to the ground and scuffed from tripping on chunks of missing tiles in the floor. Picture the same playlist of songs that are played every single week, so often that you remember the song that comes after the current one playing. Now picture the sweaty people that you are surrounded by but never talk to at school because when they tried to dance with you the night before, it didn't turn out well for them so now you just avoid them. That's NV. Still need a better picture? Go find my blog titled "That Time I Started a Bar Fight."

Anyway! So my friends decided that I should get dressed up and drag my ass out to NV in order to feel better about everything that happened with J. I was sort of excited about it during the day but really didn't want to get too done up because in the evening, I just wasn't feeling it at all. I had showered and began to tackle straightening my hair and it was a struggle for sure but I got it done. I bought a dress and posted the below picture on Instagram for J's attention because that's what you're supposed to do, I'm told (and yes those are my NV shoes).

The pre-party that we went to wasn't the best and at this point, I really just wanted to go home. I didn't want to see anyone, I didn't feel cute and overall, I just wanted to lay in my bed and wonder what went wrong. My friends wouldn't let that happen so I ended up making it to the club and dancing to the God awful music that was being played. I took sips of a friend's drink because I needed something to calm me down and relax me (remember when I said I don't drink?) and after a crap night of being stepped on, spilled on and shoved from side to side; I made my way home for the night around 2am.

Now, around 3:30am- 4:00am I woke up to someone opening my bedroom door and closing it behind them. This person looked familiar but I was exhausted and really couldn't be bothered to get up so I laid there even after realizing who it was (wow I would be excellent in a robbery or break in). Once I got a grasp of who was standing in my room in their underwear, I took the opportunity to correct them and let them know that I was not my roommate and that her boyfriend was in the wrong room. Apparently he had too much to drink and got lost in our house and mistook my room for my roommates'. After him calling me Katie a million times and me telling him that he was in the wrong room, he proceeded to lift up my blankets and get in my bed behind me. [Keep in mind that he was in his underwear, I was wearing my Chance the Rapper tshirt and underwear, too and that I have met the guy 5 times or so over the last 5 years]. At this point I became more vocal and continued to tell him that he was in the wrong room but I he told me to be quiet because he was sleeping. He then scooped me into a giant bear hug where I could barely breathe and that's when I heard my roommate's whispers coming from the hallway. She was whispering his name, calling out for him and a minute later, she opened my door to find me repeating over and over that I wasn't Katie and that he was in the wrong room. She tugged on his arm and he continued to the both of us that he was sleeping. The best part was when she scolded him and dragged him out the room just like a parent would do with a little kid that wasn't listening.

As I continued to lay there, I couldn't really grasp if what had happened was real or not and eventually my body let go and I drifted off to sleep again. In the morning I remembered everything when Katie text me to apologize and we talked about it. That's when she broke me. Our entire conversation about the incident included details in between gasping for air as bubbles of laughter rose from my chest. Every few seconds I found myself wiping tears from my eyes and I couldn't contain how happy I was in that particular moment.

After all of what I had been experiencing in the week and the crappy night at the club, it took this one incident for me to realize that my friends are going to get me through this. How lucky am I to have them by my side?

-E