i've been told

Ever heard of a two day hangover? Well i've got it, in the worst way. I think it's still mostly the hangover, but it's a bit of a broken heart in there too, and that's a horrible combination.

You know, people say all kinds of things. I've been told I look like Kirsten Dunst. Or like Lisa Loeb, but only when I'm wearing my black plastic frames. I've been told a number of times I have keen senses, but like I said, people will tell you all kinds of things. Much of it is shit, especially that last one. It has to be. And sometimes you say things that you can't take back, and there's been a lot of things being said, some of it shit and some of it irreversible.

Two nights ago I went out for dinner with Harry. I got, in hindsight, deliberately shit-faced. At the end of the night, when I knew I'd had too much to drink but didn't really care, I propositioned him.

"Stay over at my place."

"What? Why?"

"Because. Just stay."

"Will you have sex with me", he asked, cool as a fucking cucumber.

"I wasn't asking for sex."

"Well I'm not coming over to have a 'sleep-over'. I have way too much to do tomorrow and I never sleep well with someone else in the bed. If you wanted to have sex, that's a different story, and even then, you're drunk. I wouldn't have sex with you when you're drunk. Only an asshole would do that."

We were outside my building now.

"Besides, what's the point of me coming over just to sleep?"

"I, uh, I don't know.", I stammered. "Can't there be something in between?"

There was a long pause.

"Rachel, I love you, but like a sister."

My heart sank like a weighted bag of kittens.

"I love you like a friend. I wouldn't do something that would jeopardize our friendship."

That last line, as I recall, he repeated several times.

This isn't happening, I thought. I looked at my feet.

"Are you crying?"

I couldn't look at him. Now I kind of wish I'd had that one last look.

I hate that he pretended his rejection of me was for a noble reason. We all know that's shit. I just don't understand how I misread him. I always got the sense that he had feelings for me. I always thought the reason nothing ever happened between us was me. In the beginning, when I said we were too different, he argued with me. In fact he still does whenever it comes up.

He said he was sorry if he'd mislead me. Maybe I'd mislead myself. A part of me had always thought fate had put us together. That it was just a matter of time.

"Look Rachel, I'm attracted to you but that doesn't mean it would last any longer than the other relationships I've been in lately. I'm just not there and it's not worth the risk. I don't want to lose you."

But the saddest part of all is that I was already lost.

I passed out crying like Paris Hilton going back to jail, but when I woke up the next morning, the strangest thing happened. I didn’t wake up treading water in a pool of guilt, the way I would even on the most typical night of drinking. While I woke up incredibly hung over, nauseous, my eyes almost swollen closed, crying again even before I opened them, my head wasn’t crowded. It was clearer than it had been in a while. Maybe it was because I finally told the truth, in the truest sense of the word. My truth.