As you know, I just broke up with someone. I said to TR when we walked home on Friday night, "I'd like to crawl into a hole for a week, but instead I have a party to go to on Friday and Saturday. I don't think I've ever been less happy to have two parties to go to in one weekend." He asked, "Why are you going if you don't want to?"
Good question. I don't know yet if this is a break up where I need to sit home and mope or where I need to get out and be sociable.
When I was 22, I had a break up after which I found myself completely unable to have fun when I went out. I remember going to see my friends who were in a band, walking up to the bar to get a beer, being accosted by some guy and telling him, "I had a really bad experience." I looked so miserable that every new man I met asked me, "What's wrong?"
I decided I needed to stay home for a while and mope. Telling every new guy I met that I'd had a really bad experience wasn't really doing it for me--or them. Being around other people made me feel worse than holing up in my tiny room and watching the black and white tv. I stayed home until I felt better. Since then, I give myself permission to be anti-social for a while after a break up if that's what I need.
This time, I didn't have a bad experience. I had a good experience. I spent time with a guy who I really liked and with whom I had tons of fun. I'm sad and I miss him, but I'd like to have more fun. I think I'll be ready soon for more fun.
I went to a party on Friday night where I knew no one (the perfect kind) and where the average age was 25, if you included me and Pele. (I actually did the math.) Yikes.
Several cute boys flirted with me and one seemed to want to kiss me.
I was flattered. Under any other circumstances, I would have kissed that boy, but my heart wasn't in it. Still it's nice to know that I can pull them in. Even the young 'uns.
My heart is so not in it that I can't even write out the amusing scene that led to a discussion of kissing. It started when I reapplied my lipstick and made reference to not kissing anyone for a long time to come. The boy said he hadn't kissed anyone for a long time and asked me why I was kissing glasses. I tried to explain that lipstick comes off on cups unless you wear the kiss-proof kind. I know I also asked him if he'd played kissing games as a kid. Please forgive me; I was drunk. But I don't understand why he hasn't kissed anyone for a long time. He was the most attractive man at the party.
I was surprised by the attention, but Pele wasn't. Her friend, the hostess, was impressed. I didn't quite believe it, but it was confirmed by others, so it had to be true. How's that for swerve?
I don't think I'm going the moping route this time.
Grateful for: "it."
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