It’s election night, and I’m drinking to buffer the horribleness that is currently happening.
The last time I was this buzzed/drunk (I am a lightweight, after all), was when I was seeing LM and we had drunk sex one night because she wanted to (it was good; she was right). So being buzzed/on my way to drunk makes me think of her. What a doomed situation she was.
But I’ve been talking to this girl who reminds me of her–not in essentials, but in outward appearances. I’m not sure what I’m saying right now. There’s a lot of anxiety and booze in my system, so things are fuzzy.
I will regret this post.
This new girls lives too far away. I met her the summer I came out. I was wearing a cat shirt the first time I went to our lesbian bar, and her friend came up and flirted with me. But her friend turned out to have no personality once I was sober. I remember her, though. And she remembers me. And we may actually go on a date one of these days. She’s on the butch side of things, which makes me happy. But I don’t know how it would work. I suppose since we’ve never even gone on one date, I am getting ahead of myself. We’re going to have a phone call tomorrow. I’ve definitely thought about getting her in bed. She’s hot.
So much regret–not yet. In the future. We’re texting, so I’m texting her half drunk, which is a horrible idea, but I can’t stop myself.
Damn election.
I want to puke. Not from booze. From the election. Goddamn it.
Under the Cherry Tree 