There is something sad about getting drunk alone. And I didn't even like to drink, but here I was, lying on my bed, slightly tipsy. Unfortunately, the alcohol did nothing to help the very ty, very real feeling of loneliness. It was almost like I was in the middle of a midlife crisis-only I was 20 not 40.

Since I hadn't been smart enough to hide my phone before getting drunk-most definitely did not want to message my ex and then regret it later-I was holding the little thing now. It took me a second or two to realize that the saltiness I tasted was coming from my tears.

Oh Jesus. I wasn't normally like this. I was better; happier.

The bed creaked as I shifted into a sitting position. I let the tears flow freely as I typed in my roommate's number. She and I weren't extremely close, but she was the only one I knew in this country, the only one that might care.

One ring, two rings, three rings, loud music. My brain helpfully reminded me that Lilly had gone to a party, yet despite knowing that she probably couldn’t hear me, I started talking.

“I’m sorry for doing this, but I didn’t know who else to call…And now I’m drunk in my bedroom. I don’t think I’m dealing with this breakup too well.” I laughed nervously, for the first time noticing that the music level on the other end of the line had decreased. Figuring out that Lilly was listening, I kept on talking.

“And I’ve devoured all the chocolate I could, sorry for that. I don’t know…I just feel lonely. Okay, now you are scaring me with the silence, everything okay?”

I expected her to tell me to hang on and that she’ll be home in half an hour, and that then we will make cookies together-what we did when her boyfriend broke up with her, but instead a male voice spoke up.

“Uhm, sorry, you friend is currently busy-“

“Busy as in being sick or?” I might be feeling down, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care about my friend.

“Busy as in sharing saliva and bacteria with my friend.” The male voice replied, a hint of mischief in his voice.

“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say, since apparently I managed to blab to this stranger about how I was feeling bad, which to say the least, was awkward as hell.

“Uhm, are you feeling a bit better now, or do you want me to call your friend?” He asked me, the faint sound of music growing even quieter.

“Ah yeah, I’m fine, thank you.” I wasn’t going to interrupt my friend’s fun, not to mention that I had no idea with who I was actually talking; it was probably better to just lie and spare myself the embarrassment.

“I really hope that you lie better sober.” The stranger replied, amusemen