It was a good night, Saturday. I danced quite a bit and I have missed that more than you could imagine, and I hung out with
d_floorlandmine and cookwitch were very lovely and patient with me, but, my god. It turns out that's where all the people I'd been thinking 'isn't my life so much less complicated without [x]?' were hiding, along with some other random incredibly attractive people for me to suddenly get all eighteen-year-old about.And I feel like that, now. 24-year-old me doesn't care much whether people are interested in her because she is so petrified of doing anything with anyone anyway that it largely seems irrelevant; 18-year-old me used to kneel in front of people in the street in the rain and try to make them take her home. I mean, really, I would much rather be the way I am now, scared stupid but much less likely to make a public exhibition of myself in ways that will come back to haunt me in the manner of Russell Brand's conscience. ("...and I believe this is verbatim...")
But I nearly reverted to type at that damn club, and did more than enough of making an ass of myself afterwards, and so now basically I kind of want to melt myself to death! And it was good to dance, and I'm sure I'll go back, and I hope I'll get used to being around the beautiful people again, but right now I just hurt in a way I haven't done in bloody ages, and I don't know what to do about it. I can't stop wanting to cry.
Bloody goths.
E.
x
