Week Seven Journal One

Week Seven Journal One (Alternate Version)

It was the first week of June, the exact date I do not remember. Bernard and I had gone out to dinner early in the evening, around five. It was my birthday, but of course as soon as we arrived home, Bernard grabbed a beer from the fridge and went to the bedroom, grabbing a sack of weed and some rolling papers. I walked in on him finishing up a joint.

“A birthday joint! For you,” said Bernard, overly excited.

“I rarely smoke pot, and why don’t you try asking before you roll up a whole joint?” I was angry, and laying it on thick, hopefully he would get it without me having to say it too directly.

“I rolled it up because I was trying to be nice, but it doesn’t matter because I’ll smoke it with or without you.”

I walked into my room and threw myself on the bed, completely disregarding the issue of cosmo I had read before falling asleep the night before. There was no light in the room, and I started to let my mind drift, overanalyzing any thought that came into my head. Would I be with Bernard forever? Why am I with him now? Bernard is outside getting high, while I’m in here waiting for something. What the hell am I even waiting for?

Sometimes when my mind drifts, I get frantic. It’s why I have panic attacks. It just sort of builds and builds and after twenty minutes of that crap, I am just out of it, completely hysterical. I rolled over in bed and felt something hard in my side. I reached under the sheets and pulled out a jewelry box. The front door opened and Bernard called my name, expecting me to still be sitting in the kitchen. He appeared in the doorway of the bedroom.

“Shit, I was gonna come back in for that,” said Bernard.

“Yeah, a little late for that.”

“Well, uh, will you marry me?”

“Bernard, you’re a good guy, but we have been dating for only two months and it’s my birthday. It’s just kind of bad timing. Really bad timing.”

“Ok. Sorry.”

“No, no it’s fine.” I was starting to actually think Bernard wasn’t so bad. He meant well, he just wasn’t very good at showing. I still don’t think I could ever marry him, but he could be a great life-long friend.

“Hey Bernard?” I said.

“Yeah?”

“You want to roll another one? I guess I have to smoke it, it’s my birthday, right?”

“Yeah”