I recently experienced a “lost weekend”. I can remember going for a drink after work on the Friday night, but everything from about 9pm onwards is a blur.
I woke up on the Monday morning in an empty flat, miles from my home. I was wearing a white T-shirt (not mine) and a pair of men’s underpants.
I’m a bisexual woman and I have no idea how I got there or who the pants belonged to. As I stumbled to the bus stop, I switched on my phone and it lit up like a Christmas tree.
There were 56 messages from my girlfriend asking me what the heck I thought I was playing at. On the bus I checked the messages and pictures I’d sent.
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