sex changes everything, doesn't it?

So here we go, what should be a great weekend recap is... well, not. Sex seriously ruins everything. Everything and everyone. I hate it. True statement there... I haven't had sex and enjoyed it, really, actually enjoyed it in so long that it's pathetic. It's pathetic because I know better - I know that if I dislike having sex so much of the time, it probably means I shouldn't be sleeping with these people.

It ruined things with Ryan, that's for sure. We had so much going between the two of us... so many years of history. An awesome friendship. Mystery. Innocence. A secret emotion just between the two of us. SO MUCH that I wanted to hold onto, without RUINING it by sleeping together. Needless to say, we slept together. It doesn't matter that we were both wasted. It didn't matter that the next morning we were both terrified by what we had just done. Months before when we hooked up, it felt INCREDIBLE to not have sex... we had a night that was perfect. Perfect hooking up, perfect cuddling, perfect PDA and perfect time alone, literally rolling around in the bed, laughing like stupid little school children. The innocence that I felt, and that he even said he knew kept us together - well it was ruined by one stupid drunk night.

And the sex wasn't even good.

It was so not even good, that I slept with him again. Another night. Drunk. After we fought.

Logical? No, not at all.

Anywhoooooo, that put an end to whatever messed up, confusing, relationship we had going on. Sex changes things, whether it ruins things or perfects things, it changes things. And until I'm in a relationship that is ready to be quote unquote perfected, I'm putting my money on the fact that drunk sex with people who don't adore me... will... ruin things.

Where's this going? Friday night. Really drunk, obviously... as I was going out with Elena and Lauren and the three of us together have quite the habit of pregaming too hard, and going out too hard. A few bottles of wine, one power hour, three shots and a cab ride (during which we finished a water bottle full of vodka) later... I arrive at my new favorite bar - absolutely wasted.

I somehow manage to be shady the whole night (the word 'whole' is up for debate here, considering I left the bar at 12:50, but we'll get there in a second). My friends are all downstairs dancing, drinking and I'm sure having fun. What am I doing? I don't know... I really don't but they told me the next day that I was not with them. Your guess is as good as mine. However my inbox/outbox tells me that I continued to text Adam with whom I had texted for most of the evening... and around 12:30 I get a call. Adam's going back to his neck of the woods and not coming to the bar we are at after all. Shit, I had really wanted to meet up with him. Have no fear, he tells me to just catch a cab to his house.

Like an idiot, I do. I don't have any cash in my wallet. He tells me he'll meet the cab outside and pay for my cab. Does this make me a prostitute? Or just make him a nice guy? The answer is yet to be determined. However considering the fact that before I got in the cab I stopped at an ATM and took out $60 because a tiny, itsy bit of me didn't trust that he would meet me outside and pay leads me to think he may not be such a nice guy after all. Damn it, trust your instincts. No, no, no... I think he is a nice guy? He's always been so sweet.

Okay so my cab gets lost, we eventually make it. Adam does in fact meet us outside, pays the cab driver for my fare (or my services... kidding of course) and we go hang out inside.

Hanging out turns to making out and hooking up and the next thing I know (but don't fully remember) we're naked at at that point where we're going to start having sex.

Before I continue.. Adam and I used to hook up pretty regularly, but if you notice in my first post... he's not a notch on my belt. For all the times we hooked up we never had sex! And he never even came close to trying. Which made our relationship have that same dreaded, waiting to be ruined, "innocence." Adam was always the fun hook up, the really sweet guy who would just hang out, like really just hang out and hook up, make out and cuddle. UGH if only I could preserve that in a glass jar (unfortunately glass jars can break right?) So when I realize all of a sudden (okay I need to stop talking like I'm a victim here, I know I was pulling his hips closer to mine, I was there too...) that we're having sex (and it's actually enjoyable)...

here it comes...

I push him enough away from me and...

start crying?

Yea, I don't know why. I don't know where it came from, perhaps the few bottles of wine, one power hour, three shots and a cab ride during which we finished a water bottle full of vodka had something to do with it... but I cried! IDIOT. Poor kid had no idea what just happened. If only I could have snapped out of my drunkness just for one second to tell him calm down, don't worry, I'm just wasted.. and hey that was feeling pretty damn good. Unfortunately that didn't happen and I just continued sobbing quietly to myself, leaving him utterly confused and probably wishing he hadn't dropped $25 on this head case's cab (yeah, that's me I'm referring to.)

I end up calling or texting Elena, she picks me up, drives us home.

The end.

Hellooooo damage control the next morning. But in situations like this, I almost always just make it worse. Maybe I should have let it be.. not brought it up, left Adam to be confused and just got on with life knowing damn well that he now completely and entirely knows of my basket case-ness. Ehhh, see I still think he's such the perfect guy. He even managed to say some pretty sweet, perfect things the night before amidst my sobs and snotty nose.

So I text him. Try and make up for the night before with a hint of "ooooh man, I feel like such an idiot.. I'm so sorry for calling you a fucking asshole?" (Oh yea, on my way out I may have dropped the you're such a fucking asshole line before I slammed the door.) Truth is - he is the farthest thing from an asshole. He didn't pressure me, he didn't force anything and yes I'm sure I was asking probably begging for everything. That's not the point. In response to my text he even apologizes (for WHAT Adam?!!! I was just wasted, I'm the idiot here who should be apologizing). I think I'm in the clear after a few texts back and forth so I give him the "Can we try meeting up again sometime soon? Preferably not when I'm so wasted" text and his response?

Ladies and gents, the reason why sex in fact ruins everything... He says back, via text message the morning after:

"Yea, sure."

Man does he sound enthusiastic.
Not.