I was a haze of pot smoke and cheap alcohol. I was laughter and dancing. I was life and death swirled into one. There was music and hands and bodies all cramped into one room so tightly we were basically one. We screamed song lyrics incorrectly and stayed on cloud 9 for what felt like forever. If things could have stayed that way, I thought I could be happy for the rest of my life. In that moment I didn’t see the lies, I didn’t feel the false hope. The haze had taken my judgement and I thought I was better for it. Lips found mine, but they weren’t his lips. They weren’t the ones I knew, but I didn’t push them away. Instead I let them pull me. We retreated from the music and laughter. The dancing faded and the cramped space gave way to darkness and quiet. I let myself be dragged into a dirty bathroom by hands that weren’t supposed to be holding mine. The fog that was my mind couldn’t tell that this was wrong. In a moment of precious clarity my eyes were opened and my skin came alive. These weren’t his arms. I struggled to maintain the confidence of knowing that this wasn’t okay. With all my strength I pushed away and found the door handle to my freedom. I burst into what I though would be safety, but I was met by his confused eyes. We walked home hand in hand, but in a silence that would be the end of us. He asked what happened, I lied. Things changed and he wasn’t mine anymore and I wasn’t his. But I still never told him.