I'll Be There For You

Last night was a difficult night. A lot more difficult than I had anticipated when I was showering and getting ready to go out. I had told myself that I'd hookup with someone, cause I've been really bored of not doing so lately, and so, decided that something exciting would happen. Boy, was I right. Exciting, sure. It was definitely an exciting night. Not quite what I had in mind, but definitely exciting. Started when me and the asian ottawaian were getting dressed and ready to get drunk. We were all ready and headed up to the gay brits floor when she decided she didn't want to drink. Only to inform me about ten minutes later, that she didn't want to go to the dance thing at all. So instead, me, the gay brit, his ex, this new guy and this girl were all getting wasted together. As we declined into the blissful state that is intoxication, we decided it was about time to go. Let me give you some background info first though. Uhm, kay, basically, the ex had told me that he was really interested in this new guy, but he was pretty sure that the new guy was straight. So yeah. As they wee getting more and more drunk, the ex was flirting with new guy more and more, and new guy was letting him. So that was that. We got to the dance and pretty much paired off into dance partners, except, I didn't really have a dance partner at first because the gay brit was dancing with the other girl, and the ex and the new guy were dancing together, so I was kinda flitting around between the two sets of partners. Gay brit breaks down mid dance with me, and we rush off out of the dance because he was really upset. We run out into the snow, jacketless, I might add, and start having this really intense, emotional heart to heart. I swear, that was probably the most emotional I've been since I got here. Actually, probably the most emotional I've been since that time I swallowed the pills. Then again, I was REALLY emotional that night whats-his-face was all like "don't seduce me", that hoe.

Sorry, I'm getting off topic. Uhm, so yeah, we were both really upset, and he was really upset and kept saying how no body loved him, or something like that (sorry, I may not have all the details 100%, I was really really drunk). Right, so, we were stumbling around in the freezing cold, and we just kept crying. I can't speak for him, but it kinda felt like we just both knew exactly how each of us felt. We connected. Everything made sense. And it made me sad. Not the connecting thing, just, everything. Hearing him say he had tried to kill himself, knowing exactly how that felt, knowing how it felt to be in a dysfunctional family, it was just all so blatantly clear, not only that we'd both experienced those things, but also just the fact that we had experienced those things. I don't know if that makes sense or not, but it does in my head. All of this always makes sense in my head. Everything always makes sense in my head. And I keep it in my head, but last night, it wasn't just in my head anymore. I was sad, and I was mad at him. I kept yelling at him to listen to me. I didn't want him to think he was alone, but he wasn't listening. I think that might be why I cried. I didn't know how to show him, or tell him that I got it. That I understood. So instead, I cried. I didn't mean to either, I meant to be strong for him.

Uhm, from there, he really didn't want to go back to the dance thing, but I was really cold, like, I felt like I was dying. Actually, I can paint this picture for you. Remember in the Titanic, scene were everyone is in the water, drowning and freezing? That's how cold I felt. I imagine that if I had stayed out for much longer, I'd actually be that frozen. We got back and saw that the other three were looking for us. As soon as he saw them, he bolted. He didn't want to deal with them, and had to leave. I get it, I guess, I just wish he'd have let me help him. I didn't want him to be alone, but I just couldn't go back in the cold, not right after getting inside. A couple people saw me come in from the snow. I must've looked really cold, cause they seemed concerned. Normally, people don't pay much attention to others. They definitely did.

That was the most eventful part of that, and after some more dancing (the asian ottawaian and some other floor mates turned up and wanted me to dance with them), the dance thing ended, but I was in too crappy a mood to be able to sober up. I needed greater intoxication. We had decided to go to this party, but apparently it was dying down when we wanted to head out, so that didn't happen. Everyone seemed to be done with the partying mood, so I was alone in my search for intoxication. I still had the joint my friend rolled me over reading week, so I took it my smoking buddy's room, and we smoked it in there. I was fucked. Bear in mind, I am a light weight, and I'd already had a lot to drink. Now add half a huge fucking joint to that, and imagine were I was. At first I was just really stoned, but then my drunkenness caught up with me, and I started feeling sick. I went to the bathroom and ended up puking on the floor, that was not fun. Honestly, the entire time I was just praying because I thought I was dying. I thought that this must be what death feels like. Guess not, but it was pretty fucking close. Finally, everything was puked up, so I cleaned up a bit, and got most of the vomit off the floor (didn't want to leave it for the cleaning staff, that would've been rude) and FINALLY went to bed.

Today wasn't much better, because I had a crazy hangover. Or maybe it wasn't a hangover, I just know I felt like shit. No headache or anything, just general crappy moodedness.Gay brit asked me to have dinner with him and started apologizing about last night, and told me how he didn't remember much of what happened, but that he was sorry because he remembered making me cry. Told me how he had this image of me being really sad in his head, and that it was difficult because he's never seen me sad before. Which made me realize, so few of my friends have ever seen me break down, and, considering how often that happens, it's kinda disconcerting. I mean, I think only the ginger and Toto have seen me after one of my fights with my parents, and the douche bag ex who no longer confronts my existence, the one that goes to Waterloo with me- I think he was there for a breakdown or two, I think. Or it may have just been the breakdown e-mail sent him before we actually started dating; and I think the asian ottawaian saw me the night I broke down in her room cause of whats-his-face. But other than that, I don't think my friends have seen that side of me. And if that's the case, can you really call them friends? I mean, aren't friends supposed to be there for the good and the bad? It's not like I don't love them because they haven't seen me cry, but it does make me question how real I am. I mean, it's almost like I'm not being myself around them.

*Sigh* all this is making my crappy mood slightly worse, so I'm gonna stop now, but before I do, let me just say that around the middle of the day, I was informed that the paper I thought to be due on march 30th is actually due tomorrow, and it's FOUR THOUSAND FUCKING WORDS. That is a lot of words. And I'm only at 423. SOOOOO, I'm gonna go work on that and hopwfully get it done tonight.

Though, I highly doubt it.

Sadface.