But instead I will treat my one (or two?)readers to a drunk blog.
I have had a raucous and disgusting last few days. That's right. My holiday weekend has been filled with debauchery and misappropriated sensuality and drunkenness. Since Friday I have been drunk, high, and belly-full. Oh yes, I also woke up in a bed which was not mine. A gay man's bed. Use your deductive reasoning . . . and the deduced truth, is THE truth. I'm not sure how it came about.
But I am not proud of this last fact. Normally, it would not bother me. Especially since I have come to realize that women like me are only good for fucking and don't register in those whole emotional departments. It's a good thing for those assholes that I just want to travel the world and could give a shit about being someone's "Special Someone." Except, that it does bother me to have to pretend I don't want certain things. It bothers me because over the weekend I also made a drunken call to Mr. TO1 and told him that I was missing him and thinking about him. My reward? The obvious one: Silence. GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK FUCKING SKULL!!!! HE IS NOT THINKING ABOUT YOU!!!! HE'S NOT GOING TO WAIT TO LOVE SOME INSECURE, FAT, UGLY, NON-WHITE SHIT-GIRL.
It has to sink in. What choice do I have?
What the fuck kind of idiot am I? I am one of those women. He is on the other side of this country laughing at me with whatever hot piece of action is gracing his bed, and I continue to hope for second chances. I wish second chances believed in me.