LEILA
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The banging in my head was a dull, persistent throb behind my eyes that made the light streaming through my apartment windows feel like shards of glass piercing my skull.
I groaned, burrowing deeper into my pillows, trying to escape the unwelcome assault on my senses.
Saturday morning was supposed to be my one day to just exist and to forget the world outside my door and the chaos of the day before.
No work, no deadlines, just me and my hangover and the lingering bitterness from last night’s pity party.
Crying through a comedy special with a bottle of wine was my desperate attempt to take everything out of my head.
I had a date with myself last night, a solitary attempt to drown out the loneliness that clung to me like a second skin.
And now I was all drunk, only to
