Self Medication

This weekend was bittersweetly bizzare.

I spent 2/3 of the weekend wasted, or at the very least, happy drunk. I also spent those nights kind of high. It was my first time. I don't know if they'll be my last, though. I like the way pot forgives me. I don't think, I just exist in the present and then fall asleep and I don't care who wanders in and out of my dreams because nobody ever does. The sleep is dreamless and therefore guiltless and loveless.

Saturday, yesterday, sweetest day, I got dumped. I haven't cried yet. I'm not going to let myself have that luxury. I think I made a mistake last night. Mistake #1: going for Alex in front of Jeff/Telling Jeff that I thought Alex was cute. Once I kissed him (Alex), Jeff just got more melancholy. But conversely, anything that would have happened between me and Jeff would have been because he was rebounding and I was rebounding and and those facts make the chemistry not 100% genuine.

This playlist is not helping my refusing to cry. "Cutest" by Shamra just came on and all the air just rushed out of my stomach and I'm getting those goosebumps that I get before I'm about to have a really bad freakout.

There's some wine in the buffet cupboard, and it sounds like a bad idea. The best bad idea.

I just don't want this to turn into Matt all over again. My grades bombed, I gained weight, didn't go to class, I stopped caring about anything. About everything. I don't want to slip back there, but I feel it starting. The Sickness is on its way.

Another part of me still says that he'll come to his senses and come back with me, that he knew he belonged with me and that he just got scared. He'll tell me that the familiar is infinitely less scary than uncharted territory.

no. no no no no no no no no no no no no.

I gotta get outta here. Chicago soon?