Saturday
7/26/25
The morning sun, smell of cooking bacon, and sound of honking traffic downstairs climaxed into a cacophony of mental stimuli that drove me out of my rapturous coma. As I groaned and stretched to life, my leg kicked something hard. It didn't take long to realize there were large arms around me, and a body attached to them as well. I knew I did something stupid last night. I have a terrible habit of doing dumb shit in my frequent states of inebriation. It's really a wonder that Harley has put up with me this long, especially considering the number of times she wakes up with bruises from my somnambulism. I should probably sort this shit out.
"Sleep well?" I say as I gently shake the strange man next to me. He seems to be in his mid-twenties like me, with an impressively muscular torso, and an expected lack of matching definition on his legs.
As he stirs, memories of last night, albeit quite vague, come flooding back to me. I remember Harley leaving early, citing lack of sleep from one of her graphic design projects, as well as Chloe, Tommy, and I downing a few too many Pickle-back shots. Nothing too unusual for a Friday night. As the man finally seemed to regain consciousness, his face sparked the last memory of the night.
"Wait, were you the guy who tried to convince me that he was an astronaut?" I ask, looking at him perplexed.
"Guilty" he responded groggily, finally lifting his head and tussling his short brown hair. "I'm Mark by the way."
"Nice to meet you Mark" I reply. "You wore a condom right?"
"Huh? Oh yeah, I did. Despite your best efforts." He said while giving me a condemning smile.
"You tried to bite it off like three times. I ended up having to fish the second one out of your pussy after you passed out on top of me."
"Yeah that sounds about right for me." I say as I get up and grab a robe from the closet. "I'm going to take a shower, see yourself out at your earliest convenience. Watch out for Harley as you leave, she bites."
"Do you want my number or something at least?" He asks while looking for his underwear, one sock already on.
"Yeah, no, thanks though." I finally respond through the bathroom door as I fumble with the shower controls.
"Alright, fuck you too bitch." Is the last thing I hear as the guest bedroom door closes.
Fucking typical, I really gotta reevaluate my choices in men. At least the scolding hot shower will wash the shame off, and prepare me for the lecture that surely will come. Harley and I are polyamorous, but we have a rule in place that we should discuss things if we're about to hook up with somebody else. Something I clearly have a bad habit of overlooking in my stupors.
"This is gonna suck."
----
Harley sat at in the breakfast nook, eating her omelet. She looked up as I walked out of the guest bedroom, still in my robe with a towel wrapped around my wet hair and pointed to the second plate she put out. The omelet would be delicious as always, filled with bacon, feta, and caramelized onions. The conversation would not be as tasty.
"A finance bro, really Vivi?" She started. "I thought you'd have better taste at the very least"
"I was drunk and he smelled good, that's honestly my best defense." I respond, starting on my breakfast. What else could I even say at this point? She's rightly disappointed that we didn't discuss it. But she's probably even more disappointed that I put myself in danger like that.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
"Did you at least tell him before you hooked up?" She responds after a minute, taking a sip of her orange soda. "Why did I even ask, of course you didn't."
"You know how fucking stupid that is right? He could have killed you, he could have killed both of us! "
"Yeah babe, I know." I reply quietly. "I'm not exactly known for making the best decisions under the influence."
"So why the fuck do you keep letting go of yourself and blacking out Vi? I know you can handle your liquor. You're doing it intentionally."
"I honestly don't know, It's easier to let someone else take over sometimes." I say, finishing my omelet and chugging my water.
Probably one of the most accurate points I've made in a while if I'm being honest. Truthfully, I'm fine with doing dumb shit and accepting the repercussions, as long as I'm the only one in danger. If my actions hurt those I love, that I can't handle.
"Listen, I know I'm a fucking idiot, and I hurt you. I'm obviously willing to take full accountability here. Can we finish this tonight? I'd really like to clear my head."
"Whatever Vi, I gotta get some work done anyway. Just no more dumb shit please?" Harley responds, getting up putting the plates in the sink.
"Yes ma'am." I finish, placing a kiss on her forehead.
----
The air around Hudson River Park was uncharacteristically crisp and fresh for NYC summer air, it smelled of newly mowed grass and dandelions. Quite a stark distinction from the usual city's baked trash scent. Combining the scent with the clear blue sky, calm river, and sounds of children playing and passing conversations allowed me a rare moment of idyllic peace in the chaos of Manhattan. I laid there, on the grass for hours, taking in the world and trying to get a grip on my spiraling thoughts.
It's been a little over two years since I made the jump, and a fuck ton of therapy, both inpatient and outpatient. Honestly, just seeing the look on my parents' faces when they walked into my hospital room the next day probably doubled my therapy bills.
I fell 35 feet that night, straight onto a downstairs neighbors concrete balcony, they discovered me a few minutes later.
Crumpled in a pool of blood.
I ended up with two broken femurs, a fractured hip, and two broken ribs on my right side. I was beyond lucky to even be alive. The doctors said that the only thing that saved me, aside from me missing the ground, was the fact that I was completely limp in my free fall. Nevertheless, I spent two weeks in the hospital, 6 months in inpatient rehab, and needed a lot of physical therapy to get back on my feet, so to speak.
I'm certainly feeling better at the moment, both mentally and physically, but a lot of the underlying pain behind that decision still lingers. Not that I would necessarily do it again, but I certainly don't hold any animosity towards the past version of me that did. Nevertheless, things are better now, so I just try to focus on the action items in my life, and minimizing any opportunities to form thoughts. Which brings me to my behavior last night; Harley is 100% correct to chastise me for bringing that random finance bro home, for many reasons. In all honesty, I'm a wildly different person when I'm intoxicated, I have the same motivations and desires, but my decision making skills are severely lacking. I see something I want, and I take it. Consequences be damned.
I certainly won't stop drinking, I don't think I ever could, but I should at least try to limit myself to remain in control of my body. If I'm an alcoholic, at least I'm functional enough to hold down a good job and maintain my relationships for the most part. At least I have that going for me.
----
Harley was on the couch watching some reality tv show when I got home. Lounging in her usual gray sports bra and black cotton shorts, her wavy brown hair tied up in a messy bun. She heard me come in and waved over the back of couch. So I plopped over next to her and we laid there for a couple episodes until we got the moxie to talk.
"I'm sorry for grilling you like that in the morning Vi." She started. " I know everything I said was something you surely gave yourself plenty of shit about. You're going through a lot and I get that."
"No babe, you were right, I really do need to start getting my shit together, or at least try to control myself. I fucked up."
She shrugged. "We'll figure it out together, do you have anything planned tomorrow?"
"I was just going to stay in and work on some side projects, why?" I reply.
At that moment she flashed a devilish grin, walked over to the freezer and pulled out a small baggie. "Wanna go on a little trip?"
"Our yearly molly drop? Always." I respond with an equally sinister smile.