Intolerance

My heart pounded as I acknowledged my inability to continue. I had a hard time concentrating on what she was saying because of the periodic beating in my chest and the agonizing sensation all over my body. Wait, was she even saying anything? I don’t know. My memories’ a bit clouded.

I winced at the sight of mild urticaria on my upper thigh, and the rashes that came along with it. But they were nothing compared to the nausea and head-splitting headache. God, did I really sign up for this? I’ll be damned if I make another idiotic decision in my life.

After I napped it out, I reached under the pillows for my phone. The text messages were mortifying. He wasn’t spared from the sporadic gibberish I sent to the people in my contacts. I can’t imagine the difficulty of explaining what had happened to someone as level-headed as he was. He probably won’t understand.

Then again, just this morning, I saw two entries with his name on the conversation view. I let out a sigh of relief. I texted his old number.

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