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notsopeacefulKeith's couch has this smell to it. Leather smell, mostly, but also the smell of the rest of his place. Not a bad smell, just a smell, like anyone's house. You notice it when you first walk in the door, but then it's gone and you forget until next time. The only reason I really notice it with the couch is I sleep there, my face turned to the back cushion, and it's the first thing I'm aware of when I wake up.
I fell asleep like that early Friday night - it's a long story how I got there, how Keith was even home that early - and when I woke up a few hours later, I realized I couldn't smell it anymore. I couldn't smell anything. That's like a death sentence for me, it's the onset of hell. It happens and I know I'm destined to hit an emotional rock bottom and stay there for the next two days.
I thought about just getting in the car and going home. I don't know if I wanted the comfort of my own bed or if I didn't want Keith to see me like that or if I was just trying to run away from what I was going to feel. I put my sneakers on, got my keys... and ended up in Keith's room instead of my car.
There were a few times I woke up and a few times I managed to respond when Keith tried to engage me in conversation, but it was Sunday night before I crawled out of his bed. I kept telling myself I had to get home, I had to go to school in the morning, but all that telling only made me care long enough to make it out to the couch. I sat down and stared at something on the TV like a zombie, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in Keith's bed at 5:00 PM on Monday.
The upshot of this is I was grounded all week, sort of. I still had my car and I was kind of on the honor system because my parents weren't home when school got out - I think they might have just been giving me an excuse to do nothing but sleep, which is what I did. I'm just glad I feel like a person now.
I fell asleep like that early Friday night - it's a long story how I got there, how Keith was even home that early - and when I woke up a few hours later, I realized I couldn't smell it anymore. I couldn't smell anything. That's like a death sentence for me, it's the onset of hell. It happens and I know I'm destined to hit an emotional rock bottom and stay there for the next two days.
I thought about just getting in the car and going home. I don't know if I wanted the comfort of my own bed or if I didn't want Keith to see me like that or if I was just trying to run away from what I was going to feel. I put my sneakers on, got my keys... and ended up in Keith's room instead of my car.
There were a few times I woke up and a few times I managed to respond when Keith tried to engage me in conversation, but it was Sunday night before I crawled out of his bed. I kept telling myself I had to get home, I had to go to school in the morning, but all that telling only made me care long enough to make it out to the couch. I sat down and stared at something on the TV like a zombie, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in Keith's bed at 5:00 PM on Monday.
The upshot of this is I was grounded all week, sort of. I still had my car and I was kind of on the honor system because my parents weren't home when school got out - I think they might have just been giving me an excuse to do nothing but sleep, which is what I did. I'm just glad I feel like a person now.
