Tuesday, January 15, 2008

Who gets drunk on a Wednesday night?

Oh yeah...

Not very often, mind you, but this time.
I did.
And now my emotions are taking me hostage.
I am crying, lamenting the fate of my one true love--
he made commitments before he knew I existed,
before I knew he would complement my soul like a geometry problem.

It is 11:11 right now...
make a wish.

We had a great time tonight, becky and I.
We laughed and played darts
and laughed and tried to play pool...
she succeeded; I failed.
I chose great jukebox songs and earlier I cooked a delicious dinner.
We were the only women there, well, besides the bar hags, but seriously, they don't count...
and dear universe, please let me never be a bar hag.
Let me never be old and alone and inahling smoke every night cuz the walls of my home are too close, the staleness of the air more foul then second-hand lung cancer.
Let me glory in the beauty of love and then settle into its warm embrace for the next 50-60 years.
Let me find someone
I know, universe, I know you already gave me the most precious and magical gift you could conceive of--and that's saying a lot--but that gift, well, as it turns out that gift was more of a taunt....cuz I can't hold that gift and I can't smell the skin on the neck of that gift, and that gift can't kiss the small of my back and hold me tight when I cry.
I hate you universe for showing me everything I want and then hiding it so far away from me that I can never even feel the light reflecting off my gift, SEE my gift with my own eyes.
What's the point of any of this, if perfection is shown to me and kept away?

My heart breaks for Cameron for Blaine and for You.
I guess that's what I get for getting drunk on a Wednesday night.

Why is this blog so goddamn depressing these days???
I swear on the lives of all that I love: I am cheerful most of the time!!!
I am, I am.
But for some reason, I come here and out it pours.

I went skiing today, after hemming and hawing over whether or not to go.
I finally got there and as I approached the lift, I saw him.
The one that usually makes my heart soar.
For some reason, seeing him caused me to grimace.
And then as I exchanged smiles and words and landed on the chair that would carry me up the mountain,
a snarl began to grow in my chest.
And I worked my way down the intermediate slope without grace, stopping to take a picture for the kid doing the jump; I think it came out fabulously.
Stopping again to take off my skis and walk past the steep part because I was too growly to attempt it.
I think it's time to admit that he's only perfect when he's with me and that's not nearly often enough for my liking.
I want to spend more time with him--see him, taste him, soak up his presence.
I left after 3 runs, without saying goodbye.
I snatched my beloved Pearl jam from the dash and frantically searched my CDs for something more...screamable.
I found something, fortunately.
And I wailed my way down the mountain, angrily shouting along with Buckcherry and Rob Zombie...
It felt good and then I couldn't remember why I was so angry...there wasn't a reason.
He did nothing wrong, I just.
I dared to be open for love, so fast, so soon and then?
Then he wasn't quite ready, so it was like being rejected and that just shuts down love and I'm too drunk to be typing.
My head is spinning and I want to shower all this smoke off my body, my body which I love, my body which is beautiful in its smoothness, firmness, curviness.......
I wish You were here, always.
I wish I didn't love myself so much, so maybe I could settle for someone else loving me less. But I am fantastic and I want to be with someone who agrees. That's the whole point of this divorce situation...
fck mefuck me fuck me
fuck this

I will go to bed now.
shower first.
drink olots of water.
sick of fixing typos.
Better not be hung over in case I want to ski tomororw.
not at His mountain. At mine.
He doesn't want me around anyway.
fuck him.

fuck this
fcuk mfuck fuck.


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