Friday Night Drama

Recently I have been quite smug about the lack of drama in my life. Unfortunately, last night was one huge drama, with three significant events including bumping into the girl from the office that hates me, getting involved in a street brawl (not with her, don't worry!), and bumping into an ex.

I dated this guy for about 2 months. After fucking him over royally a couple of months ago (in a style that is often associated with my name), I had wondered what might happen if we bumped into each other in town. In fact, it was all quite pleasant. He came over to speak to me, which surprised me somewhat.

Of course, being drunk and stupid, I was loving the drama and, not content with a friendly chat, decided to take things one step further, fully soaking up his questions of "What happened between us?" and acting as if it was a tragic love story as my friends looked on as if to say "What the fuck are you playing at?!".

As he sang I Don't Wanna Know to me with devout meaningfulness, I wasn't quite sure why I was playing this game. It was hardly in the name of love. It was purely in the name of drama.

I awoke this morning, actually shocked at myself, and the realisation that I'd kissed him, and I'd spoken to him on the phone and we'd texted each other and - heaven forbid - even contemplated him coming to pick me up in a taxi from my friend's house.

No doubt this morning he awoke horrified at his own weakness in falling for my little act, as I awoke horrified at myself for being a bitch.

And I expect that right now he is thinking that love is a cunt, although maybe not in those precise words...

I feel harsh.