T W E N T Y - S I X

H E N R Y

i am slightly drunk.

i can tell this from the way my words are slurring; the way i stumble rather than walk; and from the way thinking seems very, very difficult all of a sudden. all i really want to do is go to bed for a year and eat lots of crisps.

(although that kind of thought isn't really that rare for me.)

as a result, i don't really to want so say, think, or do very much. unfortunately, isaac wants me to do the exact opposite.

"um," he says, raising his voice a little to speak over whatever crappy christmas song was now playing in the background, "an answer might be nice?"

answer, henry, i told myself sternly.

"i," i started, and then stopped.

that's good. now just a few more words and you'll have a whole sentence.

"i don't really know," i continue, and my shoulders slump. "i don't really know at all. that's the problem."

"can't you try to know?" isaac asks, sounding horrifically sober. "please? for me?"

"maybe i don't want to know," i reply, and look down at the ground.

i can almost see the frown on isaac's face. "a - are you scared to know? maybe the last time you knew... something went wrong? someone -"

"i think we've gone a bit far with this analogy," i whispers.

"maybe," he mutters back. "but c'mon, hen. just give me answer. yes or no."

"now?"

"now."

"how about... friends?"

i look back up; isaac is still frowning. "that wasn't an option?"

"i know," i say. "but think about it. we both have shit to sort out, but we still get to see each other - in a totally platonic, non liking-each-other way - and talk and maybe go shopping together because what you're wearing right now is hideous -"

"thanks," isaac says, surly. "but i'm not sure this is going to work."

"of course it will," i say brightly. "it'll be like before, but one hundred times better. you'll see."

but as we head back into the house, i can't help thinking that it might be a lot worse.

- - - -

lucy xox

[p.s i have a new story up and it would mean the world if u took a look]