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It's been a week. This is overdue.
I'm exhausted. The infiltration. Trying to get my shit together...and now this. I don't think I've ever been so disgusted with myself. You've done some fucking stupid things drunk, Falcon, but this tops it all.
I drove Ollie home Saturday morning and didn't go back to the apartment for a while. Just...drove. Got a speeding ticket. Drove some more. Didn't care about the hangover. Finally went home and threw up. Don't know if it was the booze or what. Slept through till Sunday. Didn't really register anything until this week. Then it hit me like a freight train.
I may or may not have had drunken sex with my married-with-kids best friend.
At the very least, something happened. And I was apparently the initiator.
I'm fairly certain I'd feel at least a little better if only I could remember something. It's all a huge blank. I vaguely recall the conversation, the drive home from the bar--I know Ollie started to get sick at the apartment...and then nothing. Woke up the next morning with with a killer headache and him asleep next to me.
This wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been taking those fucking pills he got from Leon. Dammit, I know he tried out the human thing because of me.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Shit, I don't...I didn't want...How could I have let this go on so long that it turned into this!?
I didn't think I felt that way. I still don't know if I feel that way. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't have time for this shit. This was all such a mistake. All of it. Should have just let him stay at someone else's place when he got kicked out. Because I can't do this anymore.
This isn't worth it. Hell, I'm not worth it. What the fuck does he see in me anyway?What do I see in him...?
I have a fucking huge hickey and it won't go away.
I'm exhausted. The infiltration. Trying to get my shit together...and now this. I don't think I've ever been so disgusted with myself. You've done some fucking stupid things drunk, Falcon, but this tops it all.
I drove Ollie home Saturday morning and didn't go back to the apartment for a while. Just...drove. Got a speeding ticket. Drove some more. Didn't care about the hangover. Finally went home and threw up. Don't know if it was the booze or what. Slept through till Sunday. Didn't really register anything until this week. Then it hit me like a freight train.
I may or may not have had drunken sex with my married-with-kids best friend.
At the very least, something happened. And I was apparently the initiator.
I'm fairly certain I'd feel at least a little better if only I could remember something. It's all a huge blank. I vaguely recall the conversation, the drive home from the bar--I know Ollie started to get sick at the apartment...and then nothing. Woke up the next morning with with a killer headache and him asleep next to me.
This wouldn't have happened if he hadn't been taking those fucking pills he got from Leon. Dammit, I know he tried out the human thing because of me.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Shit, I don't...I didn't want...How could I have let this go on so long that it turned into this!?
I didn't think I felt that way. I still don't know if I feel that way. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't have time for this shit. This was all such a mistake. All of it. Should have just let him stay at someone else's place when he got kicked out. Because I can't do this anymore.
This isn't worth it. Hell, I'm not worth it. What the fuck does he see in me anyway?
I have a fucking huge hickey and it won't go away.

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They both have such low self-worth regarding this situation orz. "I'M NOT WORTH IT OMG."))
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