Note: The following chapter contains adult language (in both English and German!)
I was so scared that I almost didn’t go through with it.
I must have been shaking like a fucking leaf or something, because the bartender kept asking me if I was okay.
Was he for real? Of course I wasn’t okay! What a stupid Arschloch. Didn’t even make my drink right. But I drank it anyway, of course. Liquid courage… that’s what they call it, right? Well I definitely needed some… Even if it tasted like shit.
Anyway, I was halfway into my third drink when I saw him walk in. Figures that fucking Scheißkerl would decide to show up…
For a second, I thought I was gonna throw up. Ha! I would have loved to see the bartender’s reaction to that one…
Then I considered running back home. As in, literally running for the door (In those heels? Who was I kidding?) and getting as far away from there as possible…
But you know what? The more I thought about it, the more I realized I was actually glad he was there. It was just the push I needed to go through with it.
So I downed the rest of my glass and headed for the stairs. Of course, I was still scared shitless. But… determined too, I guess.
And believe it or not, I didn’t even give Diego a second glance. Ich scheiß auf ihn. I had my eyes on someone else…
I could tell right away that I’d made the right choice – I could smell the alcohol on this guy’s breath before I even said a word to him. Who knew it would be so easy? A few cute smiles and I had him wrapped around my little finger. Piece of cake!
I don’t know if that Scheißkerl was watching… But I’ll be honest. I sure as Hell hope he was.
Anyway, we danced together for, what? Three, four songs?
Then he took my hand, and asked me back to his place.
It couldn’t have been more than an hour later when I left him snoring against the pillow.
And you know what?
Mãe was right after all.
It wasn’t romantic, or special. I didn’t feel any rush of affection for this guy. Hell, I don’t even remember what the poor bastard’s name was.
But man, did it feel good.
I’ve spent nearly two weeks feeling, well, almost nothing. Just… Hopeless. Helpless. Numb.
Do you know how incredible it was to finally feel something again?
And I don’t just mean physically. That part was pretty good too, don’t get me wrong. But I felt powerful, you know? Attractive. Wanted. Happy.
All the things Diego had taken from me, I finally had back again… And then some. It was fun. It was empowering. It was a high I’ve never felt in my entire life.
Is that what I’d been missing out on for all these years? Well, damn.
If I ever run into that lying sack of shit again, maybe I should thank him.