I didn't want to write about this, I told myself I wouldn't, but I can't not do it. It's just bothering me too much for me to keep mum. This story has to come out.
On Sunday I wrote about having a pretty wretched Saturday night, and I was pretty vague with the details. That's not really going to change. What's going to change is that I'm going to share a small part of my night with you--a small part that had a big effect.
I've got this friend. A close friend. A guy friend. A guy friend who's been my friend for 19 years. A guy friend who's been my friend for 19 years who knows just about everything there is to know about me. A guy friend who comes to my house on holidays and kids' birthdays and special occasions and is a little bit more than friendly acquaintances with Glenn. A guy friend who used to like me. A guy friend who should know better.
On Saturday night Guy Friend and I went out and had two margaritas each and dinner. Since I've been running a ton and eating a little and drinking alcohol not at all since the beginning of March, the margaritas obliterated me. I seriously cannot believe how drunk I got. Not only was I crazily drunk, but I was also crazily vulnerable and needy, two things that Guy Friend, who knows everything there is to know about me, knew. Something else that Guy Friend indubitably knew, considering our long, convoluted history together, is that when I start talking about what would happen if the two of us kissed, something is seriously wrong. Something Guy Friend (who, yes, had two margaritas, too, but is well over 200 pounds and drinks and, therefore, could not have been drunk beyond sense), having been one of the closest friends I've had in my life, should have known is that in the condition I was in, any action on his part would have been too reprehensible to speak of, but that didn't stop Guy Friend from kissing me, putting his hand in a place I can't bring myself to repeat, and repeatedly trying to convince me to go to his house so we could have sex. It didn't even come close.
As I said in the beginning of this blog, I didn't plan to write about this incident, but it's been bothering me so much that I had to. Is this what I have in store for me now that Glenn and I are going our separate ways? Guys who are going to try to take advantage of me, guys who act like petulant little brats when they don't get their way (another story), and guys who are such pussies--forgive me, but there's just no other word for this one--they don't even have the nerve to have a conversation with me when a conversation is most definitely in order (and, yes, that's yet another story--I've got a lot going on)? Is this the life I've chosen?
Because I've got to say, right about now, it's not looking like the wisest choice that's ever been made.