Tonight is literally the first night in almost three weeks where I haven't had anything that I HAD to do at night. And, unfortunately, I got a little emotional. Emotional to the tune of two bags of Reese's Pieces and a venti skinny vanilla latte with an extra shot. Emotional to the tune of buying nice socks....and a Guinness shirt....and two Lady Antebellum CDs (as a corollary, that lead singer in the group is so FUCKING hot it's not even funny. Sorry. Had to say it)...and Nurse Jackie on DVD.
I'm sad tonight....I'm angry tonight too. It's easy for me to try to be objective, and to say those things to myself that my friends would say. It's another thing to not still be really hurt on one level. I know it's all stuff that I'll get over, but right now, I feel lonely, I feel a little used. I'm torn between the desire to start crying again and the desire to unleash my Irish rage and rip the skin off his face. I keep asking what I did wrong, and every time, I keep coming up with nothing. So then I go to the next question, and I ask what's wrong with me as a person, and those nasty lines come creeping into my head again.
So I listen to Need You Now, and I'm all into the "it's a quarter after one, I'm still alone and I need you now".
It kind of sucked when I went to Barnes and Noble and there was this teen magazine that said "does your first love last?" I stood there, looked at it, laughed out loud and even said out loud, alone, like a crazy person "Oh, no, because the first person I fell in love with doesn't give a fuck about me." On top of that, I've seen so many couples holding hands in the last few weeks. It's like God's laughing at me.
Despite all of this, I did decide to go ahead and move in...looking around the 1st of April. Which is better than that weekend after St Patty's like I thought it might be. Hopefully I'll move past a lot of this by then. There's just a strong pragmatic necessity that trumps my emotions on this, because I really need to get to where I'm not living at home.
I sometimes wonder if when I move out, I'll turn into a total recluse. I already tend to cloister. The odd thing is that he asked me to live with him in part to stop being a recluse himself. Whatever. It's a smart pragmatic move, even though the emotional side still causes me trouble.
The big good news was Mexican history. It sounded like bad news was going to come, especially when the teacher decided to pass around samples of other students' papers, and mine wasn't one of them. She was all "there were three really fantastic papers in this class", and I'm all "fuck, I'm already hosed". BUT, mine turned out to be one of them. Universal validation for my intelligence at least exists.
I may die alone, but goddammit, I'm going be one smart alone bastard! :)
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