I woke up in a bed of quicksand. A night’s sleep had done nothing to subdue my emotions and I felt as if I was sinking fast into the despair I’d only just recovered from. Bianca’s departure had left me in shambles and Mum’s had broken my spirit. Katya had been the one beacon of light in my life since then and now suddenly she’d flickered out. I was back at square one: hurt, desperate and completely alone.

Lying lifeless under my blanket, clinging to any warmth I could find, I mentally wandered through the past few days of my life. I cursed myself for investing my feelings so strongly in Katya. If the pain I’d felt after Bianca left told me anything, it was not to rely on another person for your own happiness. Merely months later I’d made the same mistake and I felt infinitely stupid for committing myself to anything.

Morning light shined outside, refusing to come in; blacked out by the curtain over the window. Overnight, my woe had been accompanied by anger and I now hated both Damo and Katya for what they had done. Even if we weren’t a couple, Katya knew I liked her and surely would have known I’d be upset if she was with someone else. As much as I despised her, it was nothing in comparison to the utter loathing reserved for Damo. I’d asked him as a friend not to make a move and he’d assured me he wouldn’t. The one guy who could have had any girl at the party specifically picked up the one that I had feelings for. My so-called best friend.

I fantasized conversations I might have with either of them; letting them know exactly how I felt and exactly what kind of people they were. These conversations only served to further infuriate me as I imagined possible arguments they could come up with in their own defense. I could picture Damo finding a way to spin the whole situation until it was my fault. I’d never seen him lose a verbal dispute and I knew that I wouldn’t have the capacity to defeat him.

As the disputes raged on inside my head, a single line of speech appeared and repeated itself like the tick of a clock, constantly loudening. It did this until it was the sole sound reverberating within my mind.

“We’re not going out.”

Those were the words I had spoken to Damo and probably the reason he would feel justified in his actions. Katya wasn’t mine; therefore she was open tender that he could move in on guiltlessly, despite my requests. Thinking it over, I hated myself. Why didn’t I just tell him we were going out? I wondered vainly, wishing I’d lied. Compared to what Katya did, it would have been nothing. But I didn’t lie. I was honest and this was what I got for it.

In bed, swimming among waves of melancholy and madness, I wanted to die. I couldn’t perceive any other way the pain could end. I didn’t want to work my way through the agony like I had before. Not if the work only brought me towards more sorrow. Though, I knew there was no way I would end my life. Since earliest memory, I’d had an adversity to physical pain that made it impossible for me to inflict self-harm. The knowledge of this just made things worse. I was trapped in time, forced to endure the shitty repercussions of everything. As I lay, all I could do was dwell and mourn and wish. I wished with all my power that the problem would go away. I wished for my memory of Hood’s party to be erased and for everything to return to how it was when Katya and I walked together along that never-ending road. I wished that Damo and Katya had never been with each other.

Then the phone rang. Picking up the portable receiver from next to me on the bed, I answered to a barrage of heated words.

“What the fuck was up with you last night?” Damo sounded livid. I didn’t know what to say. The speeches I’d scripted earlier had vanished like a thief in the night and I wasn’t prepared for this talk at all. “Why’d you bolt out of Hood’s? You fuckin’ upset that chick, man.”

I couldn’t believe he had the gall to say it. That chick. The girl of my dreams was just that chick to him. She was a conquest, nothing more. And he had the audacity to have a go at me for my behaviour? I felt like screaming at him. I wanted to yell every derogatory word that ever existed in his direction. I wanted him to feel the misery that I did.

“She was having a really bad come-down when you ran off. You made her, like, ten times worse. She was bawling for ages because of you.” Damo continued accusingly as I wondered what the hell he was talking about. The extended silence in the call told me it was my turn to speak.

“What do you mean, ‘a really bad come-down’?” I asked tentatively, hating that I was even gracing him with a response. I imagined the effect it would have if I hung up on him. I would suddenly be the one in the position of authority over the friendship. I relished the thought as he responded.

“From the pill she had. It fucked up her head.” I was taciturn, registering the situation. I couldn’t figure whether Damo was lying to cover his tracks. He’d drawn me in and now I had to find out.

“She took a pill?” I asked.

“Yeah, dude, and she was freaking out about you. She was saying that you’d be pissed off at her for doing it without you knowing and she just started crying. Why the fuck did you have to leave like you did?”

I felt like a complete prick. I suddenly saw in vivid flashes the way Katya had been acting at Flinders Street and then on the train; the way she had danced to music I thought she wouldn’t like. I saw her goofy grin and captivated eyes and it all became so obvious that I couldn’t believe I hadn’t noticed. Damo had nearly turned the tables on me, though I desperately came out with the only line of defense I had.

“I saw you with her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I came out of the dunny and saw you hugging her, man.” I raised my voice slightly.

“Yeah..?” He prodded, waiting for me to elaborate. I couldn’t. That was the only argument I had. “I was hugging her because she was crying, you dickhead.” I was numb as I listened, witnessing my own stupidity unfold before my eyes. She’d been high, I’d disappeared and then made too much of nothing before running away. I was an immature, foolish prick.

“You thought I was with her?” He asked rhetorically. “What the fuck? I told you I wouldn’t try to pick her up. Jesus, man, you know I wouldn’t do that to you.” These were the first words of blatant kindness I’d ever heard from Damo to anyone. He was a true friend; I was the one in the wrong. “You better sort shit out with her, dude. She thinks you hate her.”

I had no idea what to say, so I just hung up, hoping Damo would understand. The hatred I’d directed at him and Katya reflected squarely back on to me. Again I wanted to die, but this time for completely different reasons.