I stretch my aching limbs out and as I do I feel a warm body next to mine. A smile creeps up my face as I roll over to see her beautiful brown hair splayed out on the pillow next to me. I rub my face, letting out a groan as my head begins to pound. Jesus fucking Christ. It feels like someone took a chainsaw to my skull and poured battery acid inside. Hangovers; the inevitable revenge of a night spent overindulging.

I went way too fucking hard last night. Truthfully, the last several nights have been spent in a hazy land of forgetfulness. It's been nice not feeling anything, experiencing any of life's bullshit and that includes my argument with Monica. But looking at the pillow next to mine and seeing her hair fanned out upon it is a reminder of what I miss when I get like that.

Since I've been with Monica I haven't even let myself get so fucked up. I haven't had any reason too. Her pussy juice was a powerful enough high for me. Now, I'm almost regretting that fact since I feel the raging hangover begin to settle over me, making my head throb yet again. 

I don't remember anything after I took a couple hits of whatever shit Trevor gave me last night. I'm not even sure how I ended back up here, at my apartment. I hadn't been here in days or seen Monica for that fact, let alone had her in my bed.

Monica stretches out next to me letting out a very similar groan to the one I had just let out. "I take it you're feeling much like I am right now." I say with a chuckle.

She rolls over, rubbing her face the entire time before looking at me with a dopey grin. "Like shit?" She says, batting her long eye lashes over her bright hazel eyes.

No. No. No. No. No. No.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I fucking hate myself.

I seriously fucking hate myself and that's due to the fact that the woman sleeping in my bed is not Monica. I have no idea who the fuck she is, not even a single inkling as to what her name is but I don't fucking care.

I practically catapult myself out of the bed feeling absolutely fucking disgusted with myself. Once I do I look down and am filled with relief because I still have all of my clothes on. Jesus fucking Christ, please tell me I did not fuck this woman. Please, please, oh fucking please let me not have fucked her.

Monica will hate me for the rest of my life if I did...

And this this is the moment I manage to fuck up everything. I knew it would happen and here it is. My fucking downfall caused by me, myself, and I. I'm such a fucking disaster.

Broken. Shattered. Tiny little fragments...

"Wow, what the hell has gotten into you?" The stranger says as she slowly gets out of my bed. "Did something bite you in the ass or what?"

Yeah, you. You, the woman I don't even fucking know, there in my fucking bed...       

"We didn't fool around or fuck, did we?" It's the only question I have that I care about. I am praying the answer is no. Please let me not have fucked up my life completely. The demons are scratching fiercely at the back of my brain right now. They're ready to jump out and eat me alive.

"Uh," she's thinking about it. That answers my question automatically. If I would've had sex with her, I don't care how fucked-up we were, she would've remembered. "I don't think so. I just remember getting a cab together and coming back here. I think we were going to fuck but I'm pretty sure we didn't."

"No, we didn't." I voice it out loud more for my own benefit than for hers.

She stretches out her tall, curvaceous body. She's only wearing bright red bits of lace as underwear. I will admit, whoever this woman is, she's ridiculously attractive but she's nowhere near as attractive as Monica is to me.

"You know," she saunters over to me, placing her hands on my chest "we didn't get a chance to last night but maybe we can this morning."

Nope. No. Not going to happen.

"You need to get the fuck out of here." I can hear the anxiety laced throughout my words. Panic is flooding my veins like a liquid wild fire right now and that's because I know Monica could potentially be hearing this conversation. I can only imagine her listening in on this. "Listen, you need to get dressed and you need to leave. That needs to happen like right fucking now." I run both of my hands through my hair and tug it harshly.

Fuck my entire life.

"Excuse me?" She places a well manicured hand on each hip bone as she scrunches up her face at me. "What'd you just say?"

"I said you need to get fucking dressed and leave. You need to do that now."

I'm starting to freak out inside my head right now. Monica and I had our first fight and now I have a fucking stranger, in her fucking underwear, in my apartment. Well, I'm not quite sure that qualifies as underwear. It's more like lingerie and she's not just in my apartment, she'd fucking slept in my bed.

I'm such a piece of shit. I'm such a fucking broken, terrible, fucked-up human being. I'm so fucked up. Monica was right. I feel like I want to vomit right now.

"Aren't you just a ray of fucking sunshine?" The stranger says as walks over to the bed, where her clothes are in a pile next to it. "From what I was feeling through your pants last night I just figured you'd know how to use it. Guess I was wrong. You probably suck in bed anyway."

I laugh, even though nothing about this situation is remotely funny. "Listen, if there is one thing I'm good at it's fucking."

Yeah, fucking up my mind. Fucking up my relationship. Fucking up my life. Just one heaping pile of fucked-up.

"That's what you were saying last night." She moves her body like a snake as she pulls the skin-tight fabric up her thighs. "From the sounds of it you've got quite the repertoire."

Fuck me and my big fucking mouth.

I don't say anything as I open my apartment door and gesture for her to make her exit. She slips on her last heel and smooths out her dress before slinging her purse across her body. She runs her fingers through her long brown hair, situating it just so, then finally she walks out of the door.

"Thanks for nothing, asshole." She mumbles angrily as she struts past me. I breathe a sigh of relief when I don't see Monica anywhere in sight.

Maybe we can just pretend this entire thing didn't happen...

Yeah, or not, as Monica comes up the last step of the stairs. Her head is cocked over her shoulder looking at, what I'm going to assume, is the girl doing the walk of shame out of the building. Monica's brow is furrowed but then a look of realization overtakes her and that's when her gaze shifts from the girl to me. The look in her eye turns from confusion to anger real quick.

I step back into my apartment and shut the door. Fuck this entire situation right now. Maybe she'll just go into her apartment. Hopefully she will.

No more than ten seconds pass before there's a loud series of knocks on my door. "Sean?" She sounds angry so I don't answer. "Sean? Sean, I know you're in there." Monica is now angrily pounding her fists on the fucking thing because I've yet to answer her.

I swear, she is trying to break the thing off the damn hinges now. I just stare at my door not saying or doing anything. I honestly have no idea how to handle this fucking situation right now. A part of me wants to go lock myself in the bathroom and drown away all the demons that are slowly creeping up my spine. Another part of me wants to open my window and try to see if the fire escape really works.

"Sean McCaslin, you open up this door right now!" She basically growls from the other side.  "Open this door. Now."

How about not.

"Sean, you open up this door and you look me in the face." Her tone sounds more desperate with each passing second. "I want you to look me in the face after what you just did."

She thinks I fucked her. I honestly don't blame her because if I was anyone else I'd think I fucked her too. Honestly, I woke up this morning unsure of if I had or hadn't.

I close my eyes, letting out a deep frustrated sigh before opening the door. Here we go. I keep them closed as I feel Monica launch herself into me. She's screaming obscenities at yours truly. She's asking who the girl was. She's calling me every terrible thing she can think of all while punching, smacking, and kicking into my chest and legs.

"Look at me. Look me in the eyes and tell me." She's scream-crying as she continues her assault on me. I didn't even know scream-crying was a thing.

I open my eyes warily and look down at her, my beautiful angry girl. Possibly not mine for much longer. That thought hurts me more than anything else right now. "Nothing happened.  I didn't fuck her, Mon. I swear I didn't."

"Don't lie to me, Sean. I'm not fucking stupid." She spits out through a mix of anger and sadness. "Just tell me the truth. You fucked her, didn't you?"

"Monica," I grab her hands and hold them still against my chest "listen to me, look at me." Her angry, tear-filled brown eyes find mine. "I did not put my dick in her. I didn't fuck her. I promise you I didn't."

She holds my eyes for a few moments before she quietly asks, "Then why was she here in your apartment? Why are the two of you wearing the clothes that are obviously from last night? Sean, you look like you just got laid."

"I don't know, Monica. Honestly, I don't even remember coming home last night. I got so fucked up after our fight. I mean, like royally fucked up. I'm telling you I probably didn't even know my own name." And I can tell you for a fact I don't know the name of the girl who just left my apartment. But probably best I don't say that.

"So, let me get this straight, this is the type of shit that's going to happen every time we have a fight?" Her eyebrows are scrunched together in frustration. 

I shrug because I don't know what to say. I've never been in this situation before. I've never had a girlfriend, never been committed or faithful to anyone, not a single person besides Monica. Clearly, I still had some serious douchebag tendencies that weren't going away any time soon.

"Monica, you said you wished I wasn't as emotionally damaged as I am, so fucked-up. There's no fixing how truly, deeply fucked-up I am." I find myself getting way too overwhelmed with emotions as I continue. "If you don't want me I get it. I understand if, if you think I'm a useless case of a man. I don't blame you. I'm broken, Monica. I have nothing, nothing to offer someone like you and trust me when I say I know it and I realize it. Not being good enough for you is something I know all too well. I've known it for a while."

"No Sean, don't say that about yourself." She grabs my face in her hands. "You're not a useless case. You're not too broken or damaged or-."

"But I am." I interrupt, pulling away from her. "I'm hopeless and useless and there's no saving someone like me, Monica. I don't know how many times I have to fucking say it to you until you get it through your head." I run my hands through my hair angrily, tearing at the roots there as I continue, "I may have not slept with her but the likelihood that I would have, if I hadn't been so messed up, is a strong possibility. I don't know how to deal with things like relationships and fighting. I've never had to."

It was the truth. I have never had to deal with any of this shit. I always just did what I wanted, fucked who I wanted, without a second thought. I was constantly doing dumb shit, but it's not like I had anyone judging me for it or holding me accountable for my actions. 

Monica is just staring at me with a look of pain and sadness now. For what seems like the millionth time today I feel terrible about myself. I'm trying, I really am, but this just isn't who I am. I've never had to be this guy, a good guy, let alone a good boyfriend. I'm a disappointment and I don't need to be reminded of it every fucking day. 

"This, this isn't going to work out between us Monica... I'm too fucked-up, I'm too..."  Monica doesn't let me finish as she pulls my face down and crashes her lips on mine, silencing me.

She pulls away from me after a moment and says, "Sean, everyone is a bit fucked-up, but you're my fucked-up man. I shouldn't have attacked you like that the other night but I was just so scared."

I furrow my brow in confusion. "Scared of what?"

"I was scared about us, you and me." She gestures between her and I. "I just don't want to lose you, Sean. Just between the way Lola was treating me and then seeing the two of you together at the bar working side by side knowing that the two of you have..." She swallows and blinks back tears. "I just felt insecure about myself and I'm so sorry I went there." I look at her, unbelieving of the words that just came out of her mouth. "Just please, tell me honestly. Did you fuck her, that girl that was just here? Did you?" 

"Ever since the first night you and I had sex I haven't been able to have sexual relations with a woman and not compare them to you, Monica. No one, not a single fucking person, compares to you. There's not one person on this fucking planet that could stand up to my expectations in a woman now that I've been with you." I cup her face and hold her brown eyes with my green ones. "After the night I made love to you I haven't slept or been with anyone else. No, I didn't fuck her, but even if I had, it wouldn't have meant anything to me, Monica. None of them meant anything before you. The only person that means something to me, that can even fucking touch me, is you. You are and will only ever be that one person for me."

Monica's eyes are leaking tears as she stares at me. She looks like she's having an internal debate with herself. "Completely fucked-up, broken, however you are I'll take you that way. I don't ever want to lose you, Sean." She looks at me with an honest resolve in her large amber eyes. " Because I love you."

My eyes widen monumentally at her declaration. "You... you love me?"