I made a poor choice last night.
I had three beers and three shots.
My rowdy neighbors encouraged it. And what happens when I drink too much? I spill the beans about my life. They now know about the muffins and all my other issues with Mr. L. Including this new issue which, for the sake of Mr. L, they took my phone away from me so I wouldn’t say anything stupid and rather take my anger out on a bottle of vodka.
Monday night Mr. L sent me a text pretty late at night asking if I was up and if he could call. Of course I said yes. I’m a lover, guys, not a fighter. He informed me that when he goes to Colorado for three weeks, he left this morning, he is going to look for work.
Awesome, the first guy I actually like since having been with fuck face wants to move TO WHERE I JUST CAME FROM. Awesome.
He was afraid of losing what we have because “I’m so amazing” (well we already knew that didn’t we? Ha!)
I played nice and encouraged him to do what he feels he needs to do, I’m a firm believer in not living in the same place your whole life. I said I didn’t know what would happen between us. Obviously I won’t do long distance so more than likely we are done. But for now I’ll enjoy the companionship and the sex (when he returns) and look forward to the dates my neighbors want to set me up on.
Right now? I’m still in bed, nursing a hangover. Awesome.