I think I drink too much. Sometimes I tell myself, Jesus you're an alcoholic. Then, I defend myself: I'm not an alcoholic, I just drink too much. I don't even waste time saying "I drink a little bit" or anything like that.
And I don't even know if I NEED it, I mean, I KNOW I don't but I don't know if I'm addicted, I just can't stop. I have no control over myself. Even last night, I didn't even want to go out. I don't know why I did... I shouldn't have. I didn't party, we just drank. And I got my hangover probably an hour ago, and now I'm just watching the minutes tick by and waiting for the advil to kick in.
I drink too much.
I'm having a tough time of it right now. I can barely sit here without puking, or at least feeling like puking. I suppose I should force myself to, but I really don't want to. I puked last night. I just, augh!! I haven't puked for a while. I don't remember much of going home last night. I don't even know exactly where we were when I had to puke... I just remember laying there in the ditch, all alone, wondering if someone was going to drive past and see me. Then walking along the road to Philip... And in his car, I think I was apologizing for the shitty luck he's had with girlfriends. I don't know why, I always feel like I'm partially to blame. I AM partially to blame, I know, and I don't know if he DOES blame me, but I guess I felt bad last night. I remember walking in his headlights up my driveway, then I remember climbing over the baby stair blocker thing. Don't remember anything else. Woke up this morning, in my shirt and bra, puke on my floor (huh, I don't know when that happened), and my pants were in the hallway outside my room.
I always wonder why I wrecked the greatest relationship I've ever had. Things have changed so much since then, though! Philip and Mo party like crazy now, and they didn't then... I don't even know Philip anymore. I called him Chippy last night, and that was weird for me. It felt weird. I wonder if it's awkward for him to hang out with me. I was wondering that last night sitting behind him in his car. He never talks to me, and it's not unreasonable for me to think that he hates me, and if he does it's okay. I still have the letter he wrote me.
It never used to be awkward for me to hang out with Chip... as I am tentatively putting it, I don't know why, I probably shouldn't but I am anyway. I mean, I'm best friends with his best friend, we dated a LONG time ago, two years ago. Holy shit that's weird to think. I've always liked him, like that, and it's just been normal hanging out with him. But last night, it was weird. I didn't like it. Not because he potentially dislikes me, it's been like that for ages. It was because I couldn't handle it. I did a good job of handling it, not letting it show, and I hope to God I didn't say anything stupid last night, but I don't like looking at him. I WANT to touch him. I want to play with his hair. I want to kiss him, talk to him, ask him questions and all of that stuff. And since I couldn't, and I don't want to have to control myself, it was awkward. And will be.
Don't mistake me for hoping to get back together with him, though. Haha there's probably more of a chance of me getting back with BEN than with Chip!!!!! (That was a joke, humor, haha, funny.) I mean, yeah, I probably would given the chance, but there is no chance. It's like, getting with a gay guy (which he isn't) or a movie star. Fun to think about but completely unrealistic.
Will someone please tell me why the fuck I decided to eat salsa and chips with a fucking hangover??? I didn't feel them earlier but my stomach sure as hell is NOW!!!!!!
Love ya
~Anne
(PS, I went to see the movie Mean Girls--Lindsey Lohan is so fucking beautiful!!! but anyway, deep down inside I'm partly a mean girl myself. I kind of like that. I'm appreciative of conniving, backstabbing bitches, if they're good at it. It really is an art form!)