Okay here goes... so last night, no Tuesday night - the "after work get together turned black out" night - I fucked up. I get it, I'm flawed, but even worse than that is the fact that I just don't learn from my mistakes! I'm a terrible drunk dialer. More often it's drunk texting, oh what has our generation become, but Tuesday night was a combination of the two.
And I cried. At the bar... to a stranger. What is wrong with me? I honestly think this is a sign of something worse than my drunkenness... like a sign that I need to see a therapist. STAT! I'll get to the crying later.
First, the drunk texts. Not only did I text the boy who I saw Saturday who had promised me he'd call later this week - hello? When a guy says he'll call later in the week it is FAR too early to accuse him of not calling on TUESDAY! Tuesday is not later this week. Whoops. I did. Poor Pete. And this isn't German lover boy, this is a few years older used to go to college good friends with my older sister and her friends Pete. This is blonde Pete. I never date blondes. This is sweet, kind, actually a good human being, likes to volunteer and is going to law school Pete. AND HE'S SINGLE! Finally, I'm not throwing myself into the arms (or towards the groin) of an unavailable man! Precious Pete!
So Saturday we hang out (not by ourselves, this was by pure chance) and get to talking and catching up a little, considering it's been two years since I've seen him.
UGH pause... my co-workers just asked me to join them in a "company lunch." Since when do we have lunch together? HELLO! I have more important things to do.. like blog about Pete, and Ryan, and fjdlkajfd be back in 30.
Ah surprisingly fun lunch.. okay, so Pete... we're drunk on Saturday, he seems excited that I'm living back in this city, asks for my number and promises he'll call later this week so we can get together! Fast forward to Tuesday night, I'm drunk again and fucking text the kid... I did so using a hint of sarcasm, I believe my text said: "Tuesday night and no call? Just kidding, but seriously you ought to call me this weekend so we can meet up!"
Idiot.
Luckily he doesn't seem too annoyed by my impatience and responds happily with "Aah you beat me to the punch. What are you doing Thursday? Should we get a drink? I'll call you tomorrow."
Wooohoooo so my drunk texting doesn't get me in too much trouble, just makes me look like a desperate (I am), impatient (I am), Tuesday night drunk... (I was).
Next idiot move... I scroll through my phonebook and land on Ryan P. Ryan P. (not asshole, drunk sex, ruined friendship Ryan) has expressed his legitimate love for me since 6th grade. I, being the kind of girl who really, truly, only wants what I can't have (which makes me worried about Pete, does this mean secretly I know I'll never have a chance?), strongly disliked little immature, annoying Ryan P. until... Christmas of last year. Naturally, although this man is no joke, the most beautiful man I have ever seen (think Tom Brady meets Rob Kardashian... he's a looker) I didn't necessarily take to him and his good looks until, well, he was unavailable. Christmas time came around and one of my girlfriends told us all that she and Ryan P. had been "talking a lot, like all semester" HELLO HE WAS IN AUSTRALIA!! (oh god, I'm such a hypocrite, this is exactly what I'm doing with German lover boy!!!!) Anyways, I knew better. Ryan P. talked, online, to anyone who would listen while he was in Australia... anyone. I ignored him for a solid 3 months... he's the kind of kid who will IM you and say "Hey" - you respond - he says "What's up?" and then there is silence... it's pointless.
So I know that this budding relationship with Ryan P. and my girlfriend is shit. She is just over excited and the first night we run into him at the bars he immediately dismisses her and informs her "ugh... it wasn't like that, I guess we weren't on the same page." She was slightly frustrated, but not heartbroken, and suddenly... I realize that Ryan P. may actually be desirable. Only now that I see there is competition, of course.
We chat occasionally during the spring, summer rolls around and I try, I mean... I really tryyyyy to like the kid. When we're out I engage (or attempt to) in conversation and there is just nothing. Nothing. The kid is like a brick wall. A really, really, nice looking brick wall. Okay so, the more and more I try, the more and more I think maybe if I just give in and make out with him you know, mayyyybe I’ll feel something.
The night that I finally go home with him just happened to be the night a kid from work was hanging all over me at the bar so maybe Ryan only likes what he can’t have too? Anywho… I go home with him and have a fucking BLAST! Like, a blast. We were literally rolling around in bed all night making out… like high school kids. We didn’t have sex. We didn’t (that I can remember) do anything, except make out. WHAT A RELIEF! What a great feeling. To wake up smiling next to an incredibly cute, and apparently kind, sweet in bed man. And I didn’t have to regret having unprotected, drunk sex, with a kid I didn’t even like talking to… like normal.
Then I find out he has a girlfriend.
Okay, honestly I found out like 2 days before we hooked up – I’m telling you, I really only like what I can’t have, damn it… But he completely denied they were “official.” What are you, actually still in 6th grade? Your best friend calls her your girlfriend, your little sister calls her your girlfriend, your entire posse of best and closest lady friends call this girl your girlfriend. You’re official… you just don’t care enough right now to pass up a hook up with the girl you’ve loved since 6th grade.
I liked the attention. I took it, kill me. Playing the home wrecker is not new to me. At least I didn’t sleep with him, right?
Then we hook up again. He is all of a sudden fun. We can talk freely and openly about everything, as if we’ve known each other forever… I guess we have, makes sense. And he is just fun! We laugh, we go out to breakfast the next day and sit on the outdoor patio of an adorable restaurant downtown and aaaaaah my heart is aching.
He’s another woman’s man. I’m the fling. Like always. Fuck.
He drove back to college (oh yea… he’s younger than me, eeeeeeeek) that same day and we have hardly talked since. He lives next door to his girlfriend, he obviously is with her and has far too many things to think about (girlfriend, girlfriend, girlfriend) to continue talking to me so he is suddenly out of my love life as quickly as he came into it.
Tuesday night? I text him: “Ryaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.”
Hello drunky, mcdrunkster. As if that text isn't screaaaming I'm drunk and wish you were here to hook up with me. Welp, ladies and gents, that's pretty much what I explicitly state in the next texts. If my roommates weren't so nosy (and also my best friends who love to creep) and hadn't forced me to erase my inbox and outbox the following morning I would share with you the entire conversation that continued for about 2 hours...
It had a lot of me wiiiishing oh so much that I had told him my feelings long ago, and lots of me begging for him to come visit (whaaat?!!!) and pleaaading that we should try the "us" thing.Who the hell am I and what was I thinking?! This is Ryan P... remember the brick wall? The kid who I couldn't even hold a 2 minute conversation with until I decided to make him my summer fling?
Embarrassing.
I apologized the next morning (via one very miserable text) and haven't heard from him. So! There's another one out the door.
What else did I do Tuesday night?
Oh yeah! ... I CRIED.
In the bar. To a stranger. In my defense, he was a doctor so was pretty damn good at playing the life coach therapist role... but I can't remove all fault from myself... I brought up the sob stories and the oh life is so tough talk...
That wasn't about guys at least. My brother died 4 years ago and it's still a hugely, unresolved issue but come on... keep it in private? I cried in a mother fucking bar... again.
I'm always that girl, for one reason or another.
Luckily this little sob fest happened with a stranger and I think my guy friends were all too drunk to notice.
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