a year older and who would know

I couldn’t seem to muster any fragment of intelligence in the romantic arena this past week. Logic, sensibility, or desire to do anything that isn’t ultimately destructive didn’t appear to be present.

Bailed on a date with a cute guy I met at a bar. We had hit it off that night and he asked for my number shortly after he took my hand and led us off the dance floor to talk. We texted back and forth for several days and set up a date for the next week. So what’s the fucking problem you ask? No idea, I reply.

Hours before the date, I just didn’t want to go on it anymore. I felt like I knew too much about him already, through our texting for almost a week. I guess that what I learned about him I didn’t like? I lost the attraction? The intrigue was gone? All of a sudden the date seemed like a waste of time because I already knew I didn’t want to continue anything with him.

But why did I suddenly care about whether it’s going to go anywhere or not….? I’m in a “have fun” phase currently so why would our future status matter. Why did I abruptly find this fun date so reproachful? I made up some excuse about another guy to get out of it and he actually seemed rather disappointed about it.

The following weekend my ex joins us for bar hopping. Him and I are okay friends and are both still part of a large circle of friends, that are mostly paired off now. I was pretty hammered even before we got to the bar and when my ex got there I pretty much went after him right off the bat.

Danced with him all night and probably didn’t even let anyone else near him. Girls approaching us I probably hissed at and threw ice cubes in their face. I was so lost in it that I missed key things happening in our group through out the night such as someone in our group getting kicked out of the bar. We probably all left the bar with the trouble maker friend and I’m sure my mind was on holding my ex’s hand as we exited instead of hey why are we exiting.

My ex left early and my group finished out the night with some typical drama, losing phones and cussing out bitches who have the phone and don’t want to give the phone back. Sigh, life.

Somewhere in route to Taco Bell I sent my ex a text saying what a good time I had with him and that it got my hopes up.

The next morning with coffee in hand I laughed about the text, brushed it off. Oh silly me.

Three hours later, this time holding a sandwich, and it hits me. Why would I text that? OH MY GOD.

He never responds to it. Probably because he thinks doing so will in fact get my hopes up MORE. Let me throw in the kicker, in a months time he and I will be the only single people at our friends wedding.

Do I just have no self control at all? My friend had even tried to discourage my ex from coming that night because she had a feeling I might do something….not so intelligent. It’s sad that my friends know that certain people cannot go out with us because I will not be able to behave normally.

Eleven thirty am today I was sitting on the curb outside my friends house contemplating parts of this past week while still in my clothes from the previous day and clutching a bottle of wine I had gotten as a birthday gift. I was waiting for a ride because I do not have a car and my friends who took me out for my birthday had taken me to their house for more drinking and I had ended up spending the night.

I’m sure I looked a hot mess sitting there barefoot and hungover. It’s either that or your basic definition of a homeless alcoholic. I was playing with the ripped holes in my jeans and thinking about how I’m 25 now and how hysterical that is. Does any of this sound like someone who is 25? Could anyone deem this person as being a responsible 25 year old? An adult even?

Thinking about these recent dating woes and my current unemployment just makes it look like I’m making all the wrong decisions right? Like I’m fucking up all over and it’s anyone’s guess what I’ll do next.

Here’s the funny part, I think I’m okay with it. For the most part I mean, not fully. I’m not saying I want to go around making bad decisions, but a part of me is not much looking forward to the day when I have to have it all together.

I mean I’m twenty five years old and my life kind of feels like a joke, but it’s a joke I like telling.

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