That Thursday, after learning I wouldn't be having Molly up for the last week in England, and making a reunion in August less likely, I couldn’t wait to get out of the fucking shop, I hopped upstairs and blasted a few tramadol and valium until I couldn’t snort anymore. Did a couple lines of cocaine and was feeling quite lovely although horribly depressed; basically my natural state, listening to music to make myself more depressed. Eventually I sent a text and during that moment forgot how brilliant Molly is and how much she would read into what I would say, just as I would read into everything she said.
What followed was nothing short of a disaster I completely caused. As I offered to fly her up earlier as a way to maybe solve the problem of being so far from her, the distance grew even further as I let my insecurities and frustrations leak into the words on my phone. Subconsciously I probably wanted to create a friction between us to see if i could get her to slip up a little to see if she remotely felt as heartbroken as I did.
I had met my match, she just shredded me up like I Chinese cabbage. I was left a fumbling mess and tried my best to keep up, replied, in poor form, not even putting my whole head into it. this is what i got in return: well aimed darts pegging me to the cork.
The "narrative" thing killed me. I responded by saying if youre wrong for my narrative you'll have to decide, from where I am, my narrative isn't nearly as interesting without you. we took a break for awhile and picked the fight up later.
That stress message kind of killed me, knowing that I was responsible for a lot of it. She isn’t the type of girl to let someone like me get as close as I did, so I decided to take a little while off and let her turn introverted for awhile and hope she would text me once she was less stressed. Tears streamed down my face in self pity that I had lost this one, the chances of her meeting me in August were pretty slim and I knew it. I did my best to hold it together and the next couple of days at work I was distracted and high. I let her get inside my head, and that made me a little ashamed, I needed to light that lady killer fire in me but just didn't have the constitution to going around fucking other girls while my heart was elsewhere.
Saturday was extra slow, I got the time to write, catch up on this sad story and get ready for Anna, the old counter girl from the shop I was currently working at, to join with Kate at the shop and then go and visit Sir Arthurs. I had plans with Natalie and her husband on Sunday night to take them to some speak easies and hopefully do some drugs and have cocktails until it was too late. I was stacking up the pounds to the point that I would probably be snatching up that tweed suit I was after in the end, especially since Molly wouldn’t be joining me.
The prospect of going to the states was killing me, and Im reminded not to give my word on where I will work until the time comes when I know where I want to go. Donald Trump’s new America was something I already can’t wait to escape, I have 6 months on the east coast to fulfill and a little girls birthday to attend. Before I can leave again.
Saturday I zeroed at work, but Molly text me, asking how my weekend was, which was a surprise, I was almost sure I wouldn’t talk to her again, I responded and told her about my plans. She told me she wasn’t feeling well and I felt bad for her and commiserated with her. She made the effort to stay in this game of ours, which left me with a feeling of joy, maybe she would be in my future after all, that thought left me smiling the rest of the night. Shortly after Molly’s text, Anna and Kate showed up and we shot over to my place, Anna was well pleased to be there, being a psychotic Sherlock Holmes fan. I poured a couple vodkas and broke out the MDMA and cocaine, more cocaine had just arrived in the mail waiting for me just inside the front door. It was super fun having the girls over, we laughed and listened to music while we did drugs and acted the fool. Then before it could really start, about 20:00 we were walking Anna to the train. Kate stayed over for a minute after that and we talked then she bailed and I took a handful of valium and went to bed.
The next morning I hit my run pretty hard, did my yoga and was ready to work, the bus was extra late and while I waited I got this really weird prophetic dream message from this wild gypsy woman I went to primary-high school with.
Spooky, sounds like I’ll either end up in a coma, get hit by a train or overdose. Needless to say, when you hear shit like that it’s enough to make you take heed of the warning and maybe take it a little easy. I say that as I’m preparing for a night of MDMA cocaine and cocktails with Natalie and her Beau.
I met Natalie and her husband at one of my favorite London bars, the Mayor of Scardey Cat Town. I had got a little carried away with the coke by that point that I didn’t offer the newly weds any, it would’ve been a bit of an insult so just the MDMA, to which Christopher declined since he was driving. Natalie gave me a long teary hug, we hadn’t seen each other in years, since we worked at Wildfire in Cape Town together. I covered the cocktails since they had traveled from the south of the country to come to London. We got pretty loaded and were laughing and carrying on the whole time, it was a welcomed distration. We took to the streets and went to the nearest and newest speakeasy Lounge Bohemia where we found plush chairs and a weird 70’s cocaine furniture type vibe. I drank my martinis and we just kept on. Before long my night with friends was over and I walked them to the train station, and then myself to the London Bridge Station stumbled on to the train and then to Sir Arthur’s and took a bunch of valium and tramadol and went to sleep.
I woke up and did more tramadol, enough to curb the hangover and hatched a plan for my day off. I jumped the train and then a bus to the posh side of London, where I found my favorite gentleman’s tweed joint, Walker Slater, formerly only in Edinburgh, Scotland, now they have 2 stores in London. Lucky me, I rocked up and got fitted, was happy and bought a nice 3 piece super smart looking dark grey houndstooth suit of my dreams for £400, I was prepared to pay a whole lot more. I would pick it up Wednesday after it has been tailored.