Just for a few hours, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.

When everything in my life came crashing down forever ago, I wanted to do absolutely nothing but sit, sulk, and wait for the days to be over. My friends wouldn’t let me have it.

So, to a party I went. Inside the grand acropolis, I was met with music, people, food, and alcohol.

“Come on, let’s dance!”

“Nah, you guys go ahead. I’ll just sit here.”

Their faces told me they were not going to go anywhere without me, but soon, their faces turned to shock, then surprise. Then smiles? Um…okay. 

I turned to see my crush headed my way. For a moment, I’d forgotten to breathe.

“Hey. Do you want a drink?” He asked with two red cups in his hands. His lips turned up into a half smile.

Taking a step closer to me, he was towering above.

The contact and closeness made me nervous as hell, but I wanted him even closer. Having a drink will make you less nervous, my friends had said earlier.

I took the red cup from his hands and downed it within seconds. Soon, I had another. And another. And I didn’t quite know what I was doing.

There was a newfound comfort in parties- in being surrounded by people. But just as soon, I started feeling vulnerable. Drinking made me want to open up about what I’d been through, but I couldn’t allow that. I wouldn’t.

So, I started doing and saying stupid things to get them to laugh. It made me feel good to do just that.

I discovered a new, divine distraction.

And as I talked to my crush, I didn’t remember what I was saying to him, but he was smiling. That I remember.

I now thought the world about parties–they were the shit.

But the next day, I always wished someone had shoved a fist in my mouth to stop me from talking.

Why, oh, why do I say the things I do when I’m intoxicated?

But I knew why.

It was my secret defense mechanism.

People would think that I was spilling the truth, when I was really just saying insignificant things I’d tell almost anyone. It was a way for me to distract others and myself and to cover up the innermost truths.

Scared I might confess what I didn’t want to talk about with someone I felt incredibly comfortable with, I just needed to keep talking. And staying happy and fun and dumb- no one would ever suspect differently, I told myself and felt relieved.

Because underneath there was still darkness, and I worried if it was out I’d never come back from it.

So, locked up away it remains. Only I have the key. And it’s been years since I’ve opened it.

But it makes me wonder if anyone has discovered the lock.

Fictional excerpt by yours truly. Hope you enjoyed!

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