(Backdated to December 2nd)



It was a decision.

Was it a good one? Well, that was left for debate.

Perhaps it was. All the misleading thoughts, doubts, anxieties, imagined nightmares, depressive naggings, all of them disappeared amongst the overall physical sensations that overrode the senses. Why worry about insecurities when that hand on her hip was all that more interesting. The lights flashing to the beat of the music. Lasers flashed through the air, as bodies ground against each other. Some moved to the general tempo of the music while others didn’t care, lost in their own world and enjoying everything that was going on around them.

Living in the moment.

Forgetting everything that was wrong.

What was wrong?

It was hard to remember when a stray pair of hands found their way from hips down to her butt. The skin tight pants was a meager barrier between her and the groper, but she didn’t care. In fact, it felt intoxicating. Every little nuance could be felt from her partner. The way they moved. How each finger dug into her as a hand roamed from butt to slide just under the hem of her shirt, touching skin.

Who was it?

Did it really matter?

If she’d been in any other state. If she had passed on the innocent looking pill it was likely the red-head would have left the club long ago. Abandoned her attempt at temporary happiness. Clarity.

Was this considered clarity?

She felt more alive. More willing to participate in life.

It had to be.

Hips ground against her. Male. Definitely male. A smile quirked her lips as she turned in his embrace, pushing her own hips against him in response. It all felt so wonderful. Intoxicating.

Lips met hers before wandering like his hands. Were they still dancing? It was hard to tell Their bodies were moving to the music but did that constitute as dancing? A quick glance around proved no one else seemed to be staring. Surely they were still dancing.

It didn’t matter.

With a bold laugh gwen grabbed the man’s face, rough with a 5’ o’clock shadow, and returned her lips to his. She wanted...needed the touch. It felt so much better than thinking. Thinking was depressing. Debilitating. This...what she was doing now. Here. This was living.

Music overwhelmed everything she heard. The man tried to say something to her but she couldn’t hear him over the constant beat of the dubstep. Nonetheless she nodded her head as it looked like he waited for a response.

Perhaps that was the point someone would have noticed that something wasn’t quite right with Gwen. That she was beyond the intoxicated actions of a woman who had a bit too much to drink. Her actions were too deliberate. Too sensuous.

Maybe this is where one could say that her actions of the night may not have been the best of choices. Would she have left the club that night with a man she didn’t even know the name of? Ask anyone who knew her and they’d say ‘No. That isn’t Gwen.’ But, perhaps that was exactly what she needed.

A way to ignore everything that had been driving her into deep depression.

A way to escape.

Perhaps the decision had been the best of decisions she’d made in a long time.


wc: 554