I came I saw I left , well I got drunk and then I left

Thank you Eugene, my dark mistress.
You will always remind me handmade dramatics and cold unforgiving winters. I will be fond to you, for you my sweet. I won't laugh when they mention your name. I won't betray the good for the bad, your touch. I refuse. I will make a special place for you inside and label you simply, "THE HORSEHEAD"

Ha! 3 years! I've done my drunken time.
Thank you. And I love you.

Just me and my many mini breakdowns.

In the course of my "Oh shit you are 25 and you don't have a home. Oh shit, you're 25 , you are in debt, you are unemployed, you have yet to graduate. Oh shit you are worthless. Oh shit you are a loser. Oh shit you will be 30 before you know it, and still a loser. Shit Shit Shit" birthday I arrived to find myself drenched in pink, opening gifts, sipping on richmond gimlets, and blindfolded. I was in fine company. I had fun. Silly, meaningful fun. I was able to forget the daylong seige of selfpity and regret. I was able to laugh, and I was able to cry. And I did just that. I cried. Late into the early morning. I sobbed because the boy never called me. The boy who has called me every day for the greater portion of my early 20s. That one. The one who seemingly forgot I existed, ever. I was doing fine, well and good until it hit me, and it hit hard with that 5th cocktail.

Call it a lesson learned, but I ended up laughing. Luckily for all the rage, the let downs, the over simplification, for all the dramatics, I had great friends to take care of me, to make me laugh and take me home.

"Well shit I'm 25. I'm broke. I have no home. No job. And no clue. But I have the greatest fucking friends in the whole of the world, and that's something to have at 25 when your broke, lost, and sobbing."

Red wine nights and Black Coffee Mornings

Red wine nights and Black Coffee Mornings
I am making promises to myself, for myself, of myself. Listing off the boys I wish to kiss, the friends I need to hug, the punches I need to take, the money I need to make. Promising Olive a quiet little place and a fire escape. Packing up my dishes, washing the sheets. Re-washing the sheets and hoping for the best. It's time, time, time to forget all the rest.