On the Official They Missed Trump Got Shot Failed Assassination Shirt moreover I love this curb, hooking up, waiting for an Uber. M grabs my hair and pushes me up against a wall, choking me, while I nibble on his ear. I turn him around, kiss his neck, grind into him, and slip my hand down his jeans. He’s bulging; I tease the tip for a second. “Wait — stop. The Uber’s here.” Back at his place, we fuck voraciously: grappling, choking, and stroking each other’s tips. Soon, I’m face-fucking him while holding onto his bed frame. M admits he loves the taste of my vanilla-scented dick. I feel triumphant — mission accomplished — and thrust deeper. We 69 for a while, and then he pulls off my socks and massages my legs, and I feel an unusual sensation jolt through me: He’s sucking my toes. Wowza. I’ve never had my toes sucked, and it makes me even harder. I immediately finish and then try to avoid cuddles so I don’t catch feelings. “It’s time I go,” I say, inviting him to tomorrow’s party. Ciao — I’m out the door.

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Home. Exhausted. I smoke a joint on the Official They Missed Trump Got Shot Failed Assassination Shirt moreover I love this terrace. If only he were single, I think. Why can’t all men be like M? Yes, I just woke up. Hung-over, still in bed, I’m too exhausted to get going. I feel great about last night’s hookup, which is helping me get over J, but after most one-night stands, I’m craving cuddles. I text M saying thanks, to which he replies saying he loved chatting but wants to continue hanging out as friends, signing off with a kiss. I leave the house smelling like a Diptyque candle. I chug vodka for fun on the way and meet a friend before we head to H’s for dinner. At H’s, we’re drinking a bottle of red and chatting. Typical gossip. We eat pan-fried falafels. Drinking. Smoking. Gossiping. Laughing.

We arrive at the Official They Missed Trump Got Shot Failed Assassination Shirt moreover I love this party. I link arms with the girls, soothing J jitters, and we prance right in. Inside the bohemian trap house, babes are swigging, toking, and snorting. There’s a stage and strobe lights outside. I pop three prescription amphetamine pills and start up a conversation with a dude whose ex is chatting up another man. I feel his pain and offer to hook up with him to make his ex jealous. 9:1No sign of J — phew. I light a cigarette and sip from a bottle of white wine. I can’t afford coke, so I survey the backyard and find someone selling MDMA.

Perched on the Official They Missed Trump Got Shot Failed Assassination Shirt moreover I love this floor, I am talking to this musician who’s also a mutual friend of M. He offers me some K — bump — and we start an effusive conversation: “Why haven’t we hung out in years?” 3:30 a.m. The party is dead, J isn’t here, and the musician and I are rapping to “Superman,” an Eminem classic. I roll another spliff, smoke it, and decide to bounce. I try to tiptoe past J’s best friend who is lying in the arms of her boyfriend on the floor while he plays the guitar. 5 a.m. Home. Wasted. Rolling. Sleep is practically impossible, so I smoke more weed. I’m somewhat disappointed that J didn’t show up. 3 p.m. Good morning. The goal is to write an entire chapter of the fashion book today. I sit at my computer and realize it’s never going to happen.
I roll out of bed, smoke a blunt, and pass out. I’m never taking molly again, I decide. 8:4Tears are streaming down my face as I shower. I can’t decide if I miss J or if I’m just having the Official They Missed Trump Got Shot Failed Assassination Shirt moreover I love this worst comedown of my life. After reading a book for a few hours, I check Hinge. The stand-up comedian asks me about hobbies and all that mumbo jumbo, which I find exasperating. I’m not feeling mentally sound or horny, so I resolve to message him back tomorrow; I’m sure I’ll care then. 11 a.m. Oh, man — today is the actual comedown, and it’s so bad that I am considering starting antidepressants. Instead, I push myself out of bed and try to make the most of my day. Speaking of which: What day is it again?
After the Official They Missed Trump Got Shot Failed Assassination Shirt moreover I love this gym, where I cycled for 45 minutes as I listened to Taylor Swift, I answer the comedian’s questions, regretfully, and feign amazement at his dance abilities. I feel horrible — I know I should give him a chance and be less judgy — but my neurotransmitters are fried. Noon. It’s finally Tuesday, my favorite day, and I’m looking forward to my meditation class this evening. We’re focusing on overcoming ego, attachment, desire, and jealousy as well as learning to cultivate a loving, compassionate mind-set.