Taking Back That Night

She was a California girl and loved the sun on most days, but today was different. The light seemed to be piercing through the window and aiming right for her eyes, in the most blinding fashion. She got up to put the curtains, only to realize there were no curtains. She seemed puzzled at first, she remembered buying new crimson curtains for her new apartment. Only, this wasn’t her apartment. She looked around and soon realized that she was in a room of a trashy motel. There was a large crack in the adjacent wall, which seemed to be shedding its coat of color faster than a golden retriever sheds its fur. Her clothes were strewn across the floor and she used the white blanket as a substitute to cover herself. The smell of cheap wine, stubbed cigarettes and sex was overwhelming, making it evident that last night had been a long one. She didn’t seem to remember much; her last memory was of sitting at a bar, being offered a drink buy a tattooed biker. And to her surprise, there he lay. On the same bed as the one she had just gotten up from. Naked.

Paula wasn’t stupid, she joint the dots soon enough. Cheap motel, the smell of alcohol, and a naked man by her side – she had just had a one-night stand. At first she almost seemed amazed by how little she remembered, but once reality knocked on her door, she recollected her thoughts and her clothes and headed straight out the door.

As she walked down the hallway, she slowly began building the events of the previous night. The biker had been trying to get cozy with her at the bar, but she had no idea how she got here.  He had merely been a stranger, who started looking better with the more she drank. He had bought her a few more drinks until she couldn’t stand straight, only to have to take her somewhere. That would explain the cheap motel. It seemed convenient; after all, it was only a few blocks away from the bar they had been sitting at earlier that evening. As she paced down that hallway toward the motel lobby, half her brain said, “Paula, what the hell were you thinking?” and the other half said “Its only sex. You didn’t die from it.” It was one of those moments when there’s a devil on one shoulder and an angel on another, the kind we get to witness on most cartoon shows today. Anyway, as she stepped onto the entrance porch, she was just happy that at least her conscience was still alive, even though her memory wasn’t.

Something she wasn’t happy about was the weather. Sunny days were her thing, but today the sun was beating down on her, and she barely had the energy to put up with it. Her head was now throbbing and she felt thoroughly hung-over. She was mentally and physically exhausted, and all she knew was that she could really use a strong coffee right now. (Usually she would prefer a drink, but after the previous night, that didn’t seem like the best idea, or even an option.)

Was his name Brian? Or Brandon? She couldn’t seem to remember. The alcohol that had been induced in her system the previous night had done a good job of erasing most memory of him. All she knew was that she had found herself in bed with him that morning, and she didn’t even remember his name. She wasn’t the type to do something like this, she wasn’t reckless. She was in control and organized and on most days, the perfect assistant. That would explain why her boss loved her so much and depended on her for practically everything.

About the boss, she was a big event planner in the city of New York. Mrs. Shannon Schultz was the most sought after event planner in all of the state, with more than 300+ successfully organized events in her repertoire. Shannon was a friend to Paula, and had been by her side while she was going through this rocky stage in her life (we’ll get back to that in just a second). She had dragged Paula out of her apartment and decided to hit the bar so that the two of them could just drink up and loosen up a little bit. Now, Paula had no idea where Shannon was. She made a mental note to give her a call as soon as she got home.

She had found herself on Fifth Avenue, and she didn’t have money for a cab. Her apartment was just a few blocks away, so she felt she could walk the distance. While walking down the streets that led to the place she called her home, she felt a mix of emotions which burst in her head like the sudden burst of fireworks in the sky, except fireworks bring happiness, and these emotions clearly missed the mark. She felt disappointed in herself. After her messy breakup with John she had promised herself that she wouldn’t become one of those vulnerable girls who waste away their lives as tramps that wake up in a stranger’s arms. Paula and John had been together for only a few months now and things had started to get serious. Paula believed that this relationship was actually going somewhere, until John broke up with her. He told her that she was a nice girl, but he wasn’t fully invested in this relationship and therefore he had to break off before he hurt her any more. Paula had fallen in love too hard too fast. She had tried her best to convince herself that there would be other better guys, but had failed to do so. She had concluded that alcohol was probably the most effective and only medicine left to try, and so she did. She couldn’t believe that she had picked a one-night stand as her last resort, yet another part of her felt that if she could do the night all over again, maybe she wouldn’t change a thing, maybe it was for the best, a new lesson to be learnt. Oh the devil-angel thing again. She couldn’t push away the feeling of regret for long, and soon enough, it swallowed her to such an extent that she began to feel sick. It was either that, or the alcohol. Either way, things were not looking good for her. She assumed that maybe she had thought that sleeping with another man would make her feel alive and complete again, but she felt emptier than ever now. And nauseous.

She stopped walking after a while, only to throw up in a nearby gutter. The taste in her mouth was awful, and that knocked sense into her. She regretted it twice as much now. There’s nothing like washed up alcohol to make a woman feel like she’s pregnant or is suffering from food poisoning. Paula knew what she was suffering from- regret and guilt and heartache. She believed that those were the things that had caused her to throw up repulsively on her way back. 

She reached the street in which her building was located, and then began the walk of shame. Mrs. Harrison was walking her dogs outside while Samuel, her nephew, who also lived in the building was picking up the morning newspapers. They saw Paula in her ragged state, and it was clear to them that she had spent the night elsewhere. They were worried about her well-being, and Paula was worried that her appearance at this hour in this state would be the cause of an intervention.  After all, they were like family to her, and she wouldn’t be surprised if they turned up on her doorstep soon, concerned about her state of heart and mind.

She rushed towards the entrance that led to the inside of an old rusted building made of red bricks, which could have possibly been built in the 18th century. It had a dominant rustic feel to it, but the residents could tell you, that the inside of the apartments looked nothing like the outside of the building. Paula had been shocked too when she had first bought her apartment in this building. The inside was complete and posh; it had everything from wooden flooring to stainless steel kitchen counters. 

She climbed the stairs to the second floor and took out her keys to open the door. On taking her first step, she breathed a sigh of relief. However, that feeling didn’t last long, as she saw John sitting on the couch. He had been waiting for her to get home. He wanted her back. He felt this “empty void” inside him without her, as he had later said. That’s when the emotions really started to build up. She wondered whether he would want her back after seeing her in this condition, after having the knowledge that she conveniently given herself away. John turned around and Paula’s emotions had reached up to her neck, literally. She puked, again. This time on her very own “Welcome Home” carpet. She had just puked out the emotions that had been causing havoc in her head- regret and guilt and heartache. She wondered if John could see them lying spilled all over the carpet. She felt naked, emotionally, just like the man she had left behind in that trashy motel.