I rushed in through the back door of Kim's house, her dog barking uncontrollably from the cage by the front door scared the living hell out of me. I continued to panic jogging up the stairs, almost stumbling over with each hop upward - "Brittany?!" All the doors were swung open, but the strong fuse  of fresh alcohol attracted me towards the end hall on the left - the expensive kind that Kim would steal from Jordan's house after the finished arguing. I hung my head in shame before kicking an imaginary wall in frustration. fucking Jordan.

The sight of Kim was borderline blinding once I stepped into her doorframe - the lousiness of her right leg thrown over the sheets proving that she was both hot and cold, her face bare with her nails remaining unmanicured and messy hair , deemed, unrealistic for her - this is be the real Brittany Kim, in all her beauty, I thought, simply unattached from a boy.

I did notice her heart floating, displaced at the bottle of alcohol, "sunlight is your friend, babe." I brushed back the curtains as she stumbled onto the floor in agony - staining the carpet.

"Bye, Bea!" She slurred, trying to push herself onto her back but failing miserably, ultimately deciding that it was cooler with her right cheek smushed against the rug, it wasn't cool, but she was already cool enough.

I threw my keys into a pile of nothingness in the corner before flopping beside her, completely disregarding that fact that I potentially could be stuck in this drunken room with my best friend who didn't posses a television.

     "I never bought into the bullshit, Kim," I huffed. Jordan was and would never be the type of man Kim deserved, she's beauty and heartache, he's bullshit and lies - I wanted so much to cry with her once I saw a lone tear carve her cheek hitting the side of her hand that she had placed under her for support, but even I knew our stories were nothing alike when it came to guys. When it comes to life.

"Lust is an incredible powerful thing, Kim, love can very much be there and be worthy while you're so caught up in looks and appearances and clothes and shoes and hair and skin," Kim groaned and tossed to her other side away from me.

"It's not lust, Beatrice, I'm not even that pretty, so there can't be any no sexual attraction."

I chuckled, " You're gorgeous, and he's gorgeous, but there's a difference for him it's all synthetics, love is the ultimatum, and Brittany Kim you deserve such a different kind of love."

It was rare seeing Kim without a smile on her face but even through the pain and alcohol stained breathe there were moments when that happy smile tugged at the corner of her lips - she'd found pieces of her heart - misplaced Kim is still a Kim, and a Kim is better than no Kim.

   "Loving someone use to be super weird to me, I didn't get how  you can care so much for a complete stranger and want to be with them all the time, literally losing your mind when you're not together,"

    "The obsession," Kim chuckled, while still lying in the
opposite direction.

    "The possible infatuation,"

     Kim sighed after the silence that left us both thinking, "Do you love Miles?"  Stupidly, there was no hesitation, there was no need for me to think about it, "I'm in love with this guy."

I could feel Kim's stare, then eye roll of disapproval after I spoke, "this boy has you so screwed up, Bea, you literally have no idea and I, personally, don't even know him."

I shook my head in disagreement.

    Kim managed to give me a kiss on the cheek, after figuring out which of the three she was seeing was real, "for you, I hope he shows up this time."

The mockery of love I'm experiencing was laughable, I threw my head back in shame, but a light laugh escaped my lips and I couldn't do anything besides shake my head - proving that I was indeed lost and I felt myself walking to the edge again, again Miles right there by my side, you know, since he's here again. Had I  learned anything from those, rainy dark nights I spent outstretched on my bedroom floor threatening both my mental and physical health over and over every time my phone lit up and it wasn't Miles. Had I learned anything from the countless therapy visits and anxiety attacks that enclosed on my heart, the tears that had imprinted on my face where finally started to dissolve back into my skin,  but sitting here with Kim talking about love, forced them to push back onto the surface.

"I think he's dying," the tears started to flood my face when I noticed  Kim  face down, snoring, knocked out on the floor.

Tears and tears, flooding my vision staining her  fuzzy carpet, right beside her and she didn't even know.