Last night I met a friend (FRIEND) for a drink. I had three vodka tonics. (Really, it was more like two and a half.) (No, it was three. That, at the bottom of my glass, was mostly melted ice.)
Anyway, those three drinks on an empty stomach and what normally wouldn’t have fazed me all that much kinda kicked my ass a little bit.
I should be proud of myself for not drunk dialing anyone, but to be honest? I DIDN’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. I think that’s called growth.
However, I’m not so proud of the fact that I got home at nearly two in the morning and promptly began writing a new blog post. I had so much to say! And I wanted to say it RIGHT NOW. It was bursting forth from my fingertips- I’M HAPPY. And I needed the world (or, at least, you three) to know about it.
I woke up later under crushing embarrassment. Maybe you’ve seen the post, maybe you haven’t… maybe you have and you’re thinking there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but… it was not my best moment. (I actually called someone an inspiration. Ugh.)
As much as I’d love to have left that post published, it would have bothered me… and bothered me… and festered to the point of having to start a whole new blog. I figured you’d rather me just take it down and try writing it again. You know, without the alcoholic mindfuck.
Here’s the thing. I meant what I said. I am happy. And content. (Although, I must say, I wish I were a bit less content and more Now’s my chance! New life, here I come!) I have to wonder if I didn’t cause all (well, most) of my unhappiness by dragging my feet and being unwilling to acknowledge my feelings.
Prior to The Drama with my eventual ex-husband, I often reveled in the fact that I loved him more each year we were together. Our bond only seemed to get stronger. Call me crazy, but I never saw it getting to this point. But then… who does?
Post drama? Post all the lying and fighting and heartbreaking mistrust? I’m no longer in love with him. (Hard to admit, that.) My attraction for him is like a car that’s been running on fumes. It lasted as long as it could until it finally wheezed its last breath. And no amount of pleading or cursing or beating on the steering wheel is going to get it moving again.
And like I said during my alcohol-induced euphoria, I would rather be alone than with someone I’m not passionately in love. Settling is for suckers. I don’t plan on being one again.