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Sita:In all seriousness, though...

Sita:Is he big? too drunk to find.

Kat:How have I never realized until now that Sita TOTALLY goes sixteenth century when she’s drunk?

Sita:You lie, peasants.

Maggie:Okay, but remember that time you asked the guy at the karaoke bar to show you his wicked ways, and I quote, “MY LORD”?

Kat:(A GIF of someone falling onto the floor in laughter.)

I crack a smile.

If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a million times, but I’ll say it again: My girls are nuts.

Their messages go on and on like this, shifting into an entire conversation of GIF’s alone, before:

Sita:Jess, are you home yet?

Sita:Jeeeeeeesssss.

Maggie:Leave her alone. She’s had a long night.

Kat:Or maybe her night’s just getting started.

Kat:If you know what I mean.Wink, wink. Nudge, nudge.

Sita:We know what you mean. *eye roll*

Kat:You know there’s actually an eye roll emoji, right?

Sita:Still too drunk to find.

Maggie:LOL

I decide to finally insert myself into their ridiculous conversation with a:You three are too much. But I love you anyway.

Sita:Ah! You’re here! There* Here… You know what I mean.

Kat:How did it go?!

Sita:Is he still there?

Maggie:Tell us everything!!!

Sita:Calm down, Mags. She’s had a long night.

Maggie:Ha. Ha. Point taken.

Kat:Ignore them, Jess. Now tell us!

I snort a laugh, because they’re insane, and I love them so fucking much, but my laugh runs straight into an ugly cry without my permission, and they collide in a tragic mess. Tears stream down my face while I’m still laughing like an idiot, and then my laughter quickly turns into some form of a strangled sob.

Clearly, alcohol and exes and devastating revelations don’t mix.

I may have had a shot or four more as soon as I walked through my front door, too, and it’s hard to keep my emotions at bay when tequila has willingly opened the floodgates.

I thought we figured this shit out, God.I flop back onto my mattress and sink into my blankets with another bone-deep sigh, burying myself in my safe haven—another magical space of my own making. My comforter that feels like what I imagine lying a bed of clouds must be like, and enough pillows to build my own fortress.