Friday, March 26, 2010

How to feel after last night....

I've decided that drinking only brings about excess... I've also decided that people who can only drink in excess can be excessively annoying.

Last night was Paul's night. His night to invite his friends for a night out at the Radegast Hall in Williamsburg. His night to indulge in the company of friends he can't easily see or stay in touch with while in Boston at school. His night to smile, giggle and laugh. But after a few liters of beer, I'm pretty sure he may have been the only one laughing.

Not handling your alcohol consumption to the point of acting stupid or throwing up has long since been eliminated from my lifestyle. Yes, I was there. Yes, I've made mistakes. Yes, I've learned my lesson. Paul doesn't drink much often, but when he does he gets out of hand. He yells and screams and begs for unnecessary attention by performing obnoxious acts. It gets old fast. It grates on my nerves. I'm embarrassed. Some people think it's funny. Some people laugh. Many don't. He get's a free card because he's so easy to get along with. Or as my cousin stated, he's hot so he can do what he wants. But it's not true. If it were a stranger at another table, we would have complained. If it were a friend, maybe you'd laugh... not with but at said friend's stupidity. But if it were your boyfriend.... you'd be embarrassed and annoyed. I was both.

I've also decided that I don't understand people in their moments of vulnerability. I don't know what to do in situations that I don't know make sense. I don't know if I should step in or wait on the side lines for a possible train wreck to occur. Two adults can make decisions without the interference of me. I chose to sit out the 1st half and maybe step in for round two. But I don't know if round two will even come. If it doesn't, no harm no foul, right?

I also don't know how I feel about the ridicule and picking on me about Paul and my sex life anymore. Unfortunately, Paul fuels the fire by egging people on. But my sex life is my business. Not just is it my business but Paul and I are the only 2 people that know what goes on in our bed. Our bed is a place we sleep together, we cuddle together and can be intimate together. There is no intimacy with an audience, hypothetical or otherwise. I prefer it that way.

I will admit, Paul is attractive, but he doesn't always do attractive things. I'm okay with that. I know how to handle myself. And in handling myself, we have been able to maintain a very healthy relationship. I hope to continue to manage expectations with one another. I hope to
continue to satisfy each other. I hope to continue to engage each other in a fulfilling relationship. There is no crystal ball that will tell me the future of my relationship with Paul, but I can bet my snowboards (yes, I treasure those things) that we will be okay. So yeah... despite looking pretty, sometimes inside he's not. And in those times, no, I cannot see past his ugly actions to see those hazel eyes and cute smile. I can only see a person who can touch me and make my skin crawl and I have a right to feel like that without feeling guilty.

So yeah... 8 hours later and I'm awake, showered, dressed and at work. I'm bitter. I'm angry. I'm frustrated. And I'm disappointed. I feel like I was being judged for feeling annoyed last night. I feel like I was ganged up upon. And I feel like I lost my cool and was unable to hide the frustration brewing inside my body at my surroundings. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be alone. I wanted my own bed ... alone. I wanted to fall fast asleep. I wanted solitude to allow myself to collect my emotions and repackage it into something useful. Because I was maybe 5 minutes away from walking out of a bar... hopping on the L train and heading home myself.

On a positive note, it was nice seeing some old friends. It was nice dreaming about future camping trips. It was nice in the beginning when people were still fairly sober and approachable. It was nice when people still acted their age and could talk. It was nice when we would laugh. It was nice when we told stories. It was nice when we joked around. And ... well I need to focus on remembering that part of the night.

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