In vino veritas

I'm very blue today.

I got drunk with a couple of colleagues from work last night, and I was the perfect uptight girl getting drunk. I wrote this last night:

I'm still tipsy  Been waiting to get sober enough to fall asleep and sleep through the night. Even after a litre of water, my system is still acidic.  If I fall asleep now, I'll wake up in a couple of hours.(But I'm sober enough to know that I should hit "save" and not "publish...")

I drank enough to let down my guard.  I really did!  I talked openly about sex and vulnerabilities, as I was expected to, but I made sure that the drunker I got, the more politically radically I sounded.  As if my political moderation was just a mask and I couldn't wait to let out the inner Marx.  

But I'm afraid, my real inner-Marx is Harpo: somewhat inappropriate and not very funny.  I'll put my knee in your chest, interrupt randomly and occasionally, I hope, do something that is lovely, but I'm not actually as clever as people think.  But that's OK.  I hid Harpo and let Karl take the stage.

Three times this month, people have said to me "you're one of the kindest people I know."  And all three times, they've gone home to fuck the person they lust after.  Kindness isn't all it is cracked up to be.  

This morning, I'm hung over, but also blue.  Last night made me feel really lonely because they went home together.  I was out walking along the water this morning and there were all these families.  And Philip, well what do I saw about Philip?  He seems to want me in his life, but not enough to make me a priority.  I'm tired of having to push him to go out. I want him to want to be with me as much as I wanted to be with him. I feel like we've been treading water.

I hate the amount of control I cede to a man that interests me.  Quickly.  Intellectually, I resist.  But he ends up controlling my moods and I find myself bluer and bluer when he is distant and then when he saunters back, I immediately perk up.  The ironic think is that Philip has told me that he disappears when he is blue because he doesn't want to make me blue.  I've never told him how blue I get when he disappears.  I shouldn't allow my moods to be so dependent on his attention.  I know I shouldn't.  I try to stay busy.  More than try--I'm very busy.  But I would always make time to see him when he wants to see me.  But I just don't think I'm a priority.  

And I want to be someone's priority.  SOON! I was washing my face and I looked so old in the mirror when I smile. It was a shock to see!  But, I suppose I smile a lot.  And I want to keep smiling.  But truth is, I think I'd be a lot happier if I were a hot bitch than a  kind woman.