He took his trainers to work

How could I be so stupid? I didn’t think the film was going to drag on so long, but I should have accounted for the possibility that it would. Now I’m behind on everything…

I’m such a pathetic girlfriend. Dan took his trainers to work so he could run home and get high as quickly as possible. I know what he expects – I expect it of myself. I should have had the first joint rolled and the munchies prepared by now. He’ll be absolutely livid if I’m not ready when he gets back. And when I tell him I went to see a film with my mum, and it lasted longer than I thought it would, he’ll say “that’s no excuse”. He’ll say, “I told you what time I’d be home.” And he’ll be in a mood all night. Sure, he’ll smoke and snack with me until 3am, just like every night, but he won’t say a word. His mind will go to a place I can’t reach, and it will all be my fault.

God, why did I even go to see the film? I could have just called my mum, right here in the kitchen, and got ready at the same time. Then everyone would be happy. I wish I’d done that. That’s what I’ll do next time, if there is a next time. I don’t deserve Dan. There he is, working full-time in the shop, while I’m just here at home. He says he likes me being at home, but I feel guilty about it. I love him so much. I need him. One day he’ll know better than to be with me. It might be today, if I’m not ready in time. It’s a terrifying thought. How will I cope out there on my own? I haven’t spoken to my friends in months. I really, really need to be ready in time for him getting home. There’s a lot riding on this.

OK, now the munchies are all laid out as he likes them. Sausage rolls, chips, dips and ice cream. I’ve put them on his favourite tray with his favourite sauces, and I haven’t forgotten the cutlery this time. I’m learning. This is good. The thing is, there’s hardly any time to make this joint. I can’t rush rolling it, because he’ll notice. He might not notice an undercooked sausage roll or a burnt chip, but he’ll notice if his first joint isn’t up to scratch. It’s the most important thing. It’s got to be the right size, and the right strength – he will be able to tell the difference.

I should have made more time for this. Is the clock ticking louder? It sounds like it’s ticking louder. I’m sweating from running around the hot kitchen. I burnt my hand pulling the sausage rolls and chips out of the oven and it stings. I’m shaking so much that I rip one of the papers I’m rolling up, and weed falls onto the carpet. Tick-tock. No. Please, no. Not now. It looks like I’ll have to start again, God it really looks like I have to start again and I don’t have time now. What is time? Time is wherever Dan is.

It usually takes me about seven minutes to roll a three-skinner and I’ve only got half that. God it’s everywhere. It’s all over the carpet. I should clean all this up before starting again because he’ll be angrier at me wasting weed than not being ready with the first joint. I think. Or will he? Now’s not the time to be frozen in fear! There’s no time.

And now I can hear the lock turn in the front door, and tears are falling down my cheeks. He’s even earlier than he said he’d be. I fall to my knees. I was so close, Dan. I was so close to being ready. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Don’t hurt me. Please don’t hurt me. Please just smile. You look so beautiful when you smile.


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