Snowy Daze

Today was a long, twelve hour non-stop work day filled with a lot of good work that I felt great about when the day wrapped around 8PM. Tonight was me rushing to get out of work, not having time to change or freshen up for dinner, and still being fifteen minutes late. If my taxi driver hadn’t stopped in the middle of the street to help a snowbound, broken down taxi then I might’ve been on time. The restaurant was posh and they served expensive drinks in coconut shells. The waiters were dressed in white jackets and there was a rum drinking fountain next to the bathroom. Welcome to Park Avenue.

I organized the dinner of my gay guy friend J, who I also work with and Z, a newer friend who works in the same industry as J and I. We talked shop for most of the night and ate really amazingly good food. I drooled over their drinks as they ordered seconds. I miss drinking. The conversation swung towards gossip and then about our families and college. Dating came up of course next.

I was tired from the long day and wasn’t in the mood to talk about anything fun- not the Brit and not my old BF. Not even the blowjob workshop I went to.

So when asked why I wasn’t dating anyone I just said ‘I don’t want to right now.” And I couldn’t muster the energy to explain anything else. I want to be okay with not dating right now but I’m not. I know it should be fine that I’m not trying and not open to it. I can’t muster the words ‘Do you know anyone single?’ to my friends.

I should be able to say, well I’ll be ready when I’m ready. But I feel like those excuses are cop outs. I don’t know what I want. Maybe a shag with the Brit will set me back on track in one set direction?

I was too tired to fight over the music to get in long winded anecdotes. So I was more of a comment girl tonight. My friend J got so overexcited about gossip and kept interrupting me. At one point I said ‘Can you PLEASE just let me finish my sentence!?’

I had a headache by the end of the night and lazily told Z that I’d call her for coffee next week. Instead of pushing to sort out my non-drinking side of the bill, I didn’t fight when J said we’d all split it evenly. I told them they each owed me drinks when I was back off the wagon.

During my five minute walk home, I fell on ice and started crying.

I lied on the cold, wet sidewalk for five minutes, not being able to move and literally whimpered. I wish I had been drunk. But I was sober and sad. All I wanted was someone to call and cry to. Someone to pick me up and help me walk the rest of the way home, which suddenly felt very long. I hobbled down 3 more streets and cried.

I could say that I was proud of myself that I got up alone after another big fall but that’s not how I felt. I wanted to be held and warmed in someone’s arms. I could say that the pain wasn’t that bad and I learned to watch my step. But the pain hurt all over and I was watching each step.