Godammit
I originally posted this on unsent_letters , a comm for things you want to say, but won't. It does pertain to last week, and I know I have much bigger things to be concerned with, but,somehow, I can manage to worry about both. What fun.
Oh, I ate cookies and cake and slept from 1am to 8am. An improvement.
Ty,
We met a month or two ago, at the bar where you work. You were off-duty and completely drunk. We had a conversation consisting of "you're gorgeous", "you're drunk" repeated ad infinitem.
Last Tuesday, I went back to the bar where you work. Asked one of your coworkers where you were. you were on your way in, because this is your hobby as well as your place of work. When you came in, the first thing I said to you was "We need to talk. I'm pregnant." Then I cracked up, and once I'd reassured you that it wasn't true, you started laughing too.
You bought me drinks, and we talked for three hours. We talked about Disney films, and suicide attempts. We both live with our grandparents. I told you about nanowrimo. We talked about everything. Your friends told me that you were lovely, but not the brightest bulb in the box. I didn't see that about you.
You kept telling me that I'm gorgeous. I teased you about drinking too much, and forgetting me. You didn't remember me from the last time we met at all, but you said you didn't mind, because you were enjoying getting to know me now.
The expression on your face told me that that was true. You barely took your eyes off me.
You leant me your jacket when I was cold. When I left, you walked me to the bus stop, and insisted I wear your jacket. You waited with me, and, because I was still cold, you reached out and hugged me. You smelt absolutely delicious. I didn't hug you back, because I was carrying heavy bags.
When the bus came, I gave the jacket back. You tried to convince me to keep it, and if I had, maybe things would have been different. Maybe not though, because I doubt that such a little thing would really have changed anything.
On Friday, I saw you again. You were working, so for once, I was drunk and you were sober. You didn't pay me any attention that time. You weren't unfriendly, and you were happy to be hugged and kissed on the cheek (I am a friendly drunk), but you didn't look at me like you had. You looked at me like I was just anyone.
I went in again on Sunday, when I didn't expect you to be there. You were though, working again. Again, you were distant, more so. You didn't actively ignore me - you were happy to serve me, when I caught your attention, and you answered my questions - but you stayed away from me. Even when we were involved in the same conversation, you stood on the other side of the other person, as far away as possible from me while still talking. You wouldn't even come near me to pick up the empty glasses.
I asked you how much of me you remembered. I said I knew you remembered Friday, because you'd been sober then, but I hoped you'd try to forget, because I'm a bad drunk. I asked how much you remembered of Tuesday. You didn't remember much of it at all. You remembered that I'd been there,and almost got my name right, but nothing else.
I tried to make a joke out of it. I pointed out that, since I remembered, I knew more about you than you did about me. You asked me what I knew, while already halfway back across the bar.
I chickened out. I wasn't going to bring up the comparative suicide attempts, or your living arrangements, or the way you smell, or that you're the perfect height to hug me (6'4 to my 5'5 and a half), or anything else. That we'd talked about me seeing two people drink themselves to death, for instance. I came out with the lamest observation ever - that you like Disney films. But it's still better than anything else I could have said.
You forgot me. You drank me away.
I think you could have been something I'd be good at.
You're an idiot.
Oh, I ate cookies and cake and slept from 1am to 8am. An improvement.
Ty,
We met a month or two ago, at the bar where you work. You were off-duty and completely drunk. We had a conversation consisting of "you're gorgeous", "you're drunk" repeated ad infinitem.
Last Tuesday, I went back to the bar where you work. Asked one of your coworkers where you were. you were on your way in, because this is your hobby as well as your place of work. When you came in, the first thing I said to you was "We need to talk. I'm pregnant." Then I cracked up, and once I'd reassured you that it wasn't true, you started laughing too.
You bought me drinks, and we talked for three hours. We talked about Disney films, and suicide attempts. We both live with our grandparents. I told you about nanowrimo. We talked about everything. Your friends told me that you were lovely, but not the brightest bulb in the box. I didn't see that about you.
You kept telling me that I'm gorgeous. I teased you about drinking too much, and forgetting me. You didn't remember me from the last time we met at all, but you said you didn't mind, because you were enjoying getting to know me now.
The expression on your face told me that that was true. You barely took your eyes off me.
You leant me your jacket when I was cold. When I left, you walked me to the bus stop, and insisted I wear your jacket. You waited with me, and, because I was still cold, you reached out and hugged me. You smelt absolutely delicious. I didn't hug you back, because I was carrying heavy bags.
When the bus came, I gave the jacket back. You tried to convince me to keep it, and if I had, maybe things would have been different. Maybe not though, because I doubt that such a little thing would really have changed anything.
On Friday, I saw you again. You were working, so for once, I was drunk and you were sober. You didn't pay me any attention that time. You weren't unfriendly, and you were happy to be hugged and kissed on the cheek (I am a friendly drunk), but you didn't look at me like you had. You looked at me like I was just anyone.
I went in again on Sunday, when I didn't expect you to be there. You were though, working again. Again, you were distant, more so. You didn't actively ignore me - you were happy to serve me, when I caught your attention, and you answered my questions - but you stayed away from me. Even when we were involved in the same conversation, you stood on the other side of the other person, as far away as possible from me while still talking. You wouldn't even come near me to pick up the empty glasses.
I asked you how much of me you remembered. I said I knew you remembered Friday, because you'd been sober then, but I hoped you'd try to forget, because I'm a bad drunk. I asked how much you remembered of Tuesday. You didn't remember much of it at all. You remembered that I'd been there,and almost got my name right, but nothing else.
I tried to make a joke out of it. I pointed out that, since I remembered, I knew more about you than you did about me. You asked me what I knew, while already halfway back across the bar.
I chickened out. I wasn't going to bring up the comparative suicide attempts, or your living arrangements, or the way you smell, or that you're the perfect height to hug me (6'4 to my 5'5 and a half), or anything else. That we'd talked about me seeing two people drink themselves to death, for instance. I came out with the lamest observation ever - that you like Disney films. But it's still better than anything else I could have said.
You forgot me. You drank me away.
I think you could have been something I'd be good at.
You're an idiot.