I do this super cute and quirky thing sometimes where I have these really weird nightmares and sit straight up in my bed. This was the thing I was most concerned with when my best girl friend Robert talked my de facto boyfriend and myself into splitting a hotel in a neighboring major city. After sightseeing/bar hopping/being plied with free alcohol by a handsy drag queen the group (which was now Robert, his two tricks, and myself since DFBF had to “work” the next morning) made our way back to the hotel.
I slept hard as Robert, one of the other gay dudes in my unit, entertained our guests with his unit. I slept until almost 8 o’clock, thankful that I didn’t wake up from nightmares or anything else.
The next morning my hang over hit harder than any one of it’s predecessors. It’s weird how clearly you can interpret the world around you in a miserable hang over state. Everything about the last year and the coming one, my first deployment and my next, was for one moment, straightforward. I know what I want to do, how to do it. I know what I need to stop doing, and why. Hardest of all I know that I can’t let dudes into my life who treat me so badly.
I sat alone in my strange setting with my unpopped pimples and simple truths.
And then I showed an entire highway my ass.