Well, THAT was depressing

It began with so much promise, and ended without fulfilling any of it. If I could depict the night graphically it would have been a tornado shaped evening, beginning with me at the top, swirling around clutching a bottle of champagne, and ending by spitting me out the bottom, battered and confused, into my bed. I should have left when the others did.

The beautiful man from Saturday didn't show, which was a bummer, and Lo there was ass-making in front of the young and beautiful man, at the hands of said champagne bottle. And now I'm thinking I need to find alternate plans for Friday night to avoid further ass-making at my own hands.

And what was with the non-date? It looked like a date, it felt like a date most of the time, and lord if that hug goodnight felt like a more-than-friends hug. And what was with his friend asking me where he was, as if there was something to say, as if I would know where his evening had taken him. And how quickly I bit off my own tongue to prevent myself from asking him to come out, asking his friend to invite him to come out, from texting him and saying how there was no line.

I need to re-jig this, to reorient everything, but I can't. Every time I try it all just comes apart. And I'm left with this, unable to concentrate or to focus, feeling washed out or washed up or just plain washed. And on that note I have a very long day to start.