a guy a hate was there, i drank far too much, i fell over and ripped my leggings and cut open my knee, i decided that when we (the 2 most emotional drunks ever) were fucked up would be the best time to tell her I had slept with the guy she likes. 

Then starts the trying to find people, the tears, the awkward moments. The guy goes home. Soph takes me home. I eat chips and cry more. My fuck buddy comes over.  I don’t have sex with him, instead I just lie in bed on the verge of tears. I lost about 15 cigarettes. 

And this morning isn’t much better. Being called a liar, not speaking to my best friend, still feeling on the verge of tears. Oh, and my knee hurts like a bitch, I have no cigarettes and all my clothes/shoes/make-up/bank card/perfume is up at Jess’s and I can’t get to any of it because she hates me.

Trying to think of a way to make it up to her. Keep telling myself I slept with him before she even told me she might like him, it was a one night thing. Neither of us want anything from it. But she doesn’t see it like that.

Rant Over. I want to cry, still.