regatta.

got unbelievably high last night. drank baileys and vodka. watched men play poker. ate unsweetened chocolate topped with crunchy peanut butter and cherry jam. told in the kitchen, "there is something about you. unusually wise. something must have happened. travel, weight or a death?" i said, "two of those." couldn't let myself go home with him. drove alone with all the windows up. didn't want anyone to see in. woke up seven times with nightmares. drank two coke zeros (i haven't drank soda in twelve years). at regatta, i just had purple punch. it tasted like popsicles from childhood. a guy on the boat: "hi." as if he knew me. "uh hi, you look familiar." i said, playing along. "you don't remember? may. after the party." "ooooh! yes yes." fragments of everything came back to me. "do you remember my name, chelsea?" "no, but i remember those eyes." and that was the truth, but i could tell the truth didn't feel good either.