I was sorta expecting to have a wild year sometime in the midst of college. Last year i smoked pot a handful of times, but that hardly composes a bad streak all on its own, especially considering the romantic and sexual isolation i was experiencing at the time. This was going to be the year, though. It’s not exactly a cocaine addiction or anything, but it would’ve been something to tell Behind the Music about. This was going to be the year that i lived through drunken stories that could i hardly recall and slightly regretted tales of mornings after and all that. That’s not to say that i would have been a huge slut, because i love to lord my virginity over other (less pure) people, and i probably wouldn’t ever drink that much because i have an extremely healthy sense of my limitations – but i could’ve worked around those issues.
So, what’s the condition of this awful streak now? The story ends with my drinking leveling off, me actually maintaining a vestige of a social life, and *gasp* actually dating. I know, it’s weird. The weirdest part is, i still have zero-experience outside of this single relationship, so for as long as i stay within it i’m relatively going to be suspending my wild streak. But… i don’t want a handful of idiotic jaunts to consist of my entire youthful rebellion; however, admitting that i wouldn’t mind fucking up worse in the future basically admits the lack of validity of my relationship, which does not lend itself to alcohol poisoning or random drug addiction.
Can a healthy relationship and an urge to live one emotionally and physically shitty year co-exist peacefully in my life? Um… stay tuned?
isolation
I actually hadn’t figured that out for years and years. I honestly thought that the echos swirling around in my own head and the occasional fleeting contact would be more than enough to sustain me. But i was wrong. I need an audience, a support system, and a friend. Or more than just one. What i do know is that we can transmit feelings through touch. Only two weeks ago i would’ve laughed if you told me that. Have you ever really held someone’s hand? Held it like it was its own separate conversation, where the squeeze of your fingers says more in the middle of a sad story than any hug or sympathetic word or anything else? I say all that i have said with my lips and other things, and sometimes the other things are just as important.
I’ve lost touch with everything this week. I don’t think i’ve read any of my daily logs except for Re and WockerJabby, i barely ever check my email, and i’m not even on IM 24/7 like i usually am. I thought i was disguising all of this rather well on here with my inane jabber about the weather and how bipolar i am, but apparently you – the astute reader – have managed to glean a bit more information from this than i intended (or, you’ve been snooping on me over at SurvivorBlog2 even though i warned you that i’m a whorey little minx over there). For those of you who haven’t keeping up, let me present the evidence: OhMy!, a spectacle, close-up, sleeping-where?, and the self-referential allusions to things people know nothing about. So… do you know what’s going on yet?
You might point out with an ironic tinge to your tone that i pour out my heart here, and that’s why i feel so lacking in the rest of my life, but most of what i say here is the sort of thing you find out in the first ten minutes of conversation with me every day. I’m sorta just here… no awful inner conflicts or anything, just standing here. I almost want to feel the piercing pain of my broken bone again just to remind me what the difference is between hurt and happy, and so i have something to talk about. Feel free to point that out to me the next time i bitch about getting hurt…
A search through my archives for the word ‘girlfriend’ comes up nearly empty-handed, and certainly the finds it makes are irrelevant. I said somewhere a few months ago that i just wasn’t ready to make room for anyone else in my life, but i think at this point i need to make room for someone. As it is right now, i have all of these friends who i love very dearly, but hardly any of them feel as close as i want them to be. None of them are a person i’d confide in, because frankly i have nothing to confide. I’m so extroverted within my circle of friends that there aren’t any hidden impulses for me to divulge in late night phone conversations or in the back of class. I wear my heart on my sleeve and it’s left my chest empty. So, maybe i need to make room and find someone, anyone, so that i can feel truely close to someone again. But… how can i get close when i’ve got nothing of my own to give back except my ears? That might be enough to keep someone else around, but it isn’t enough to keep me…