Get off my cloud

So another big fat gap emerges between my blog entries as I actually go out and get on with my life but as soon as I go and fuck things up massively once more here I am, tail between legs yet again, bleating to nobody about the pathetic situation I find myself in.

 

I often find that I'm intimidated about blogging after an extended period away, as if there's too much to recount and it would be an almighty effort ot fit everything, as if I HAVE to crowbar every detail I've missed out into my latest entry so as to keep everything well and truly documented for whatever self-satisfying reasons I have for keeping this blog in the first place.

 

I have a session with my therapist this week for the first time in about 6 weeks since he's perpetually on holiday/off sick/incommunicado and similarly I feel like there's nowhere near enough time in our allocated session to fill him in on everything that i've fucked up since we last spoke. So I guess I've also kind of answered my own question about why I even keep this up there too, it's a form of therapy. In a sense.

 

But this doesn't help me decide where to start from when trying to recount the latest skullfuckery in my pointless day to day existence.

 

Therefore, for want of a better structure, I am going to start with today. After all there must have been some catalyst which has drawn me back to blogspirit for some spleen venting. And yes, yes there was actually. But I shan't tell you until after I've raided the drinks cabinet to knock back booze that will make me feel marginally better about things for a very brief period of time...

 

... Cor I love Becherovka. Although I must be careful. My old man imports this stuff from the Czech Republic and will blatantly notice if I neck the whole bottle in one sorrow filled night. Particularly as I've no realistic chance of replacing it.

 

So, to today. I kind of got dumped. Although that would suggest I'd achieved the impossible and actually got myself hooked to a lady, which of course everyone knows will NEVER happen because I am very much destined to die a lonely pathetic old man, unable to experience true happiness. But I did manage to win some girl over on a drunken night out, we arranged a date, went out a few times and I was genuinely starting to think about the g word (by which I mean girlfriend, it's not actually obvious enough). She was by no means perfect, but I felt more of a connection with her than I do a lot of girls. I felt kind of safe that we shared interests such as drug taking, rave music and geeky over-reliance on a laptop for internet based nerdiness. With these boundaries/taboos out of the way from the start it does make things a lot easier in general as you're able to relax without fear that one of these dark secrets will come out and spoil things in future. I guess real men just make sure they only hook up with women who will understand them or simply won't care. But I am a long way from being a real man and on many an occasion have lied through my teeth about my lifestyle in order to get some kind of adoration/sex.

 

But I digress. The girl in question was perfectly nice and I was buoyed by the fact that her friend confessed to me that she'd told her that she liked me, which I have to be honest and say NEVER happens EVER. So I was feeling all smug and casually took her number then afterwards arranged a date, confident that she wouldn't say no, based on her mate's assertions. All good right? OK but that very same night of our casual meeting in the pub the girl in question needed to leave early due to a heavy weekend ahead and in her subsequent absence I quickly managed to sleaze onto another girl, presumably still full of confidence that I'd managed to make a good impression on somebody. God knows how but it worked and before I knew it this other girl was back at my flat and I don't need to go into detail from here on in. But yeah. I did.

 

So the next day this girl is gone and I genuinely didn't even know her name so I scanned my phonebook for new numbers, assuming that at some point I would have actually taken her number down but alas no, i hadn't. So I had no idea what her name was or how to ever contact her again. I kind of buried it there and then as a result, which was a shame because this girl had ENORMOUS boobs, but I had no idea who she was and judging by the speed of her exit had to assume she had little interest once sober.

 

Anyway this was all fine in light of the fact that I'd already arranged to meet the first girl I'd met of the night before for a date and I eagerly organised a meeting with her once she'd returned from her heavy weekender away. Now I probably should have waited to do things properly but she offered an invitation to come and meet her at her flat in her desperately-trying-to-recover state on the Monday after her weekender bender and having had a few myself I figured that it'd be great for us to hook up, both significantly worse for wear. And it turned out to be quite nice. We had some sort of half arsed conversation, discussed the merits of Kirsty from Property Ladder or Location, Location, Location (I forget which is which these days) and ended up having a bit of a cuddle in bed while Black Books played in the background on her lovely Macbook. I liked it anyway.

 

So there we go, not a proper date as such, but a night together that was enjoyable. And the next day I asked if she'd be up for breakfast with me and to my surprise she was very keen. However we were both grubby so I agreed to pop off home to smarten up whilst she did the same and what was going to be breakfast ended up as lunch, but I didn't mind obviously, as if anything lunch seemed more suitable a date than breakfast. Had a bite to eat in the pub and she was still very touchy feely and keen, so all seemed good. I was starting to get this wonderful feeling that somebody liked me more than I liked them, which normally only happens with utter trolls, and I imagined parading her to other people thinking I genuinely wouldn't be embarrassed. I guess I was jumping the gun but when somebody shows the slightest bit of interest and I'm not entirely besotted myself then I can't help but feel a little smug.

 

Anyway the lunch went well and I looked forward to seeing her again. We next met up for a meal in the evening and I was impressed by my gentlemanliness, if that's even a word. I thought it went well and we both ended up back at hers again. Surely good signs, particularly given her behaviour in bed which, without going into too much detail, suggested she was pretty into me.

 

Anyway, that was Friday night and she had to disappear on family matters for the rest of the weekend. Oddly enough she left me in her bed as she got up to drive to the other end of the country and I genuinely took time to work out how she could ever trace me should I decide to rob her. I soon went back to sleep though and 5 hours later she texted me from her destination whilst I was still in her bed. So I thought better of the robbery and trotted off home thinking I'd see her again on her return from the north.

 

Well Sunday came round and she wasn't back yet HOWEVER I caught up with some friends from London so got a bit involved on the Sunday night (knowing it was a bank holiday weekend) and this left me a little worse for ware BUT totally unprepared for the text message I received off the girl I'd slept with on the night I'd first met date girl. Apparently she'd finally gotten hold of my number and wanted to meet me. Now despite half of me thinking I should remain loyal to girl 1 and ignore this potential banana skin unfortunately I was wearing my penis that particular day so all rational thought went out the window. She said meet so I said yes.

 

Of course technically I was doing nothing wrong, agreeing to meet a girl, as a single man. But I had been letting myself get keen on this other girl, who as far as I could tell had been nothing but charmed by my delightful behaviour thus far.

 

Now by this point I was starting to seriously debate whether I'd have to end up making a tough decision as to who got the nod and knew full well that I couldn't take on that responsibility alone. I wanted them to fight for my affection, as has never happened before, not fear my iron fist. But then out of nowhere the decision was made very easy for me by girl 1 telling me, quite out of the blue, that she wasn't really interested after all. Now this really threw me as everything up until this point had suggested she was most keen, so it was a bit of a kick in the teeth. However she did definitely mean it and I later discovered that a catalyst in this decision was some other fella who had hitherto made no contact. This in turn made me feel shit even though in fairness

OK so I just got up, at 5am on Friday. I thought it was 5pm on Thursday and rushed to get up thinking I'd MASSIVELY overslept and had things to do. As I sat down at the computer to get some work done I noticed the date was IN FACT Friday and I got totally spun out that I'd lost an entire day and a half. Then my flatmate popped out of his room. "Why aren't you at work?" I enquired. Well mostly it was because it was 5AM.

 

So I hadn't missed most of Friday as I had feared, thank fuck, however Thursday went completely missing and I'd not even drunk anything. What a headfuck. And even though it was so dark outside it still didn't click that it was 5 in the morning rather than the afternoon.

 

I guess I can blame Nytol and Valium for this coma, man those things are powerful.

 

Oh yeah, and I was smoking the green stuff. I'd not actually bought any in over a year until I quite randomly picked some up on Wednesday evening whilst on the hunt for Ketamine. Today is day 13 without alcohol and I am approaching a personal best so when I was DESPERATELY in need of a drink on Wednesday night I spent most of the evening trying to track down a bit of the horse tranquiliser as an alternative. Now hunting down class A narcotics as a substitute for the readily available alcohol I am so keen to avoid may seem entirely stupid BUT I really REALLY needed to get out of it on Wednesday and was dangerously close to hitting the bottle, which would have ruined my attempt to prove to myself that I can cut it out when needed, and would also have left me in a right state - within which I've no idea what stupidity may have occurred.

 

So the point was I was running around chasing after the wonky donkey, without any success as it turned out, when someone offered me some Mary Jane. Initially I declined but as I got no nearer to finding the fabled Ketamine I was so sure would consume my evening I caved in and bought a henry, thinking that ANY drug was better than NO drugs.

 

Got home, feeling sorry for myself, so blazed away and popped a few Nytol (I can't believe I only discovered these recently, they are AMAZING) and some Valeries so as to send me comfortably away to dreamy dream land and therefore keeping me away from the evils of alcohol.

 

So that was Wednesday night, now is Friday morning. That's quite a good few hours I've been out of it for. Irritatingly I have things to do today too so this early morning will have to count as the start of my day. No more Nytol, Valium or Marijuana to knock the clocks forward a few hours, just get up and deal with it time.

 

Incidentally the reason I was SO desperate to get obliterated on Wednesday night was, unsurprisingly, down to the lesbian. But thinking about that right now really fucking hurts still so it will have to be a post for another day. Or night.

I just got an e-mail inviting me to sing karaoke with Justin Lee Collins.

 

Er...

 

FUCK OFF

So I met up with the lesbian today, and it wasn't even my idea! She called me up and wanted to hook up and I was pleasantly surprised by how normal and not awkward it was. All week I've been stewing that things will never be the same again and yet the one person I have been most worried about ruining things with seems to be almost fine with me again.

 

It was nice anyway.

 

But the real weird part is her suggestion that we move in together!!! Not as man and lesbian wife obviously, but I mentioned how it looked unlikely that my current flatmate would want to renew our tenancy in the current flat, and I wouldn't blame him either to be honest, and she said that if I am seriously going to be looking for somewhere new in a few months then she'd like to share with me as she's only in somewhere temporary at the moment.

 

Now obviously I'm DELIGHTED at this suggestion. Not least because it puts to bed all my fears that I'd lost my relationship with this girl, and it also gives me hope that good friendships can be repaired. And as I type I've just got a call from another mate which is nice as I've been almost entirely incommunicado for the past week. So fingers crossed it's not all totally shit.

 

But anyway, the lesbian as a housemate... Could I do this? Of course most of me thinks yes yes yes I'd love it, we get on well, she's really cool, fun, smart, funny, we're into similar things, she's a lovely person - what more could I want? BUT the part of me that's entirely in love with her (and it's a pretty fucking MASSIVE part of me) has smashed the glass to sound the alarm. Would it ACTUALLY be wise to share with someone you're THAT keen on who will inevitably bring other people back to the house? Now where women are concerned I don't seem to have a problem with this, in some typically macho "girl on girl is fine by me" way and I had no issue with her girlfriend when they were dating or any of her girl ex's that I've met or heard about. HOWEVER, since splitting with her ex she's been a bit lost and did end up getting off with a guy at our end of college party. Now that really hurt. Furthermore she often talks about other guys she's slept with in the past and I feel myself bubbling up with pathetic jealous rage. I guess these incidents with men would suggest she's not entirely lesbian, and I know obviously that's the case but she still refers to herself as a lesbian and therefore so do I.

 

So I am left wondering would it really be a good idea in my fragile state of mind to leave myself open to the possibility of being entirely heartbroken by this girl? I've never shared a home with someone I really REALLY liked before so it's difficult to judge whether the good times outweigh the possible pain.

 

I will mull it over at length but given I've had no other offers and cannot stand the thought of having to hook up with randoms for a houseshare again it's mighty tempting right now.

She is fucking livid with me but she doesn't hate me.

 

Small steps, but this is probably the single most significant thing that could have happened in this hideous aftermath.

 

I can only hope that whenever I see her next it's not just a complete fucking mess