Hazy Maze

I took a cab back home last night.

When I woke up, I had lipstick on the collar of my shirt. I remember asking the girl why she kissed me there.

"So I can leave my mark, boy."

I didn't care. I was out of it. I spent the next few hours following her around the place like a puppet.

When she left with her friends, she told me not to worry too much about what happened.

It wasn't a fling, I guess. We had only spent last night together.

I had a guy call in a cab where I was. I couldn't use my phone. When the cab got there, I told the driver that I had forgotten where I lived, and that I had enough money the pay what would be the ridiculously expensive fare.

I think he drove around for about an hour before I could tell him where I lived. We were on the other side of town by that point. He was pissed.

Eventually, he understood about half of what I was saying, and decided to drop me off about two blocks from my street. I payed, told him to keep the change, and went off down the road.

I made it to my doorsteps about an hour later. After I had hazily meandered through the street.

I kept knocking on my door. I'd forgotten the key's were with me. My roommate was pissed.

"You know it's four in the morning?"

I had no idea. I smelled of cheap perfume and tequila.

I finally crashed on the floor of my bedroom. I was too weak to even climb onto my bed.

But now, I'm at my desk. Typing this out so that I can remember more of my night, and into my morning.

I feel hazy. I feel like I'm going through this hazy maze trying to figure everything out.

All she left me with was the lipstick on my collar.