All The Things I did the Morning After

Tala Ladki

My alarm went off at seven thirty that morning, but I couldn’t get up until three hours later. Head spinning. Black dots when I blinked. Even your face in the picture of us I keep by my bed turned hazy.
         I fell in and out, in and out, in and out of sleep for the next hour. In it, I was hoping for sweet dreams, unsure what I got. Out of it, I was scrolling on Instagram, trying to find traces of last night in anyone’s posts or messages.
         My first sip of water came late, but when it happened, I found myself with my head dunked in the toilet. Within minutes, I had flushed away all remnants and memories of last night. Getting off the cool tiles, I caught a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror – pathetic. Frazzled hair, puffy eyes. Somehow inspiring.
         You weren’t between my sheets. There wasn’t even enough coffee in the pot for two, how could you be here?
         For the next three hours, I sat in bed trying to find the will, trying to convince myself, to shower, maybe grab a bite. All I found myself doing instead was trying to remember what moments ago I had flushed away, what had taken two bottles for me to forget.
         At three, I finally found something that resembled will, and moved. Took a shower. Made the remaining coffee. Had some chocolate. Nothing in the fridge to make a decent sandwich.
         Then I remembered.
         You haven’t been there for months. All the bottles I buy, chug, vomit and repeat won’t wipe away that memory, that fact. You haven’t been there for months.