That morning:

I don't want to lose this feeling. I know it's going to go away sooner or later, regardless of what, or if, he says. But it's so nice while it's here. This fuzzy warm tingling, that starts in my gut and moves across the ley lines of my body. I have no medium capable of recording it's complex simplicity. But I need to record it somehow. I want something to spark that internal memory of it when it's gone away. So, I write, I node.

Is there even a word for it, one that describes the sensation we all feel in the initial stages of a romantic, or, in my case, potentially romantic relationship. Do you even need the other person to reciprocate your feelings for a relationship to be romantic? Certainly it would never last, but aren't these emotions and sensations I'm feeling romantic in nature? The rush you get when you find their scent on your clothes, the tsense of loss when they leave the room?

So, I write, I node. To remember this feeling, and maybe, reach out to him in a way he can handle onhis own terms.

That afternoon:

So, much stuff, so little time. I spend the afternoon doing random shopping with herbman, the whole time being impressed by the openness, warmth, and intelligence, of that boy.

That evening:

Apparently I have some issues about drunk people that I didn't really realize were so bad. It's been a while since I've been confronted with the issue, and I've changed so much recently that it affects me much more than it used to. Even when it's my best friend I still get really uncomfortable and just want to get as far away from the person as possible, to completely seperate myself fun them until they return to normal. Tonight someone I care about got a bit plastered and was acting pretty silly online, I'm sure in real life she was much more off the wall. And, I couldn't talk to her.

I don't like avoiding my friends. I don't like feeling uncomfortable around them. And I wonder, why does she keep doing this to herself? Why aren't any of her RL friends trying to stop her from drowning her sorrows in a bottle?

I have seen first hand where alcoholism can go. When I was two my dad got me drunk and had me barfing all over the floor. My mother left him then, he was drinking something like a gallon of expensive vodka every weekend. When I stayed with him for a summer, in my teen years, I got to see how bad it was first hand. He wasn't mean or anything, in fact, he kept telling me how much he loved me, but I was disgusted. I hated to be in that room with him. Eventually he got permanently sober, but I have no idea how his girlfriend stayed with him for 9 years...

Maybe that's part of why I can't stand it. Mostly, I think I can't deal with it because it means I have to watch a person avoiding their problems. I have to watch my friends hurting themselves and their loved ones. I don't mind if you drink. I'll even join you sometimes, but I care about you and I can't stand by and watch you do this to yourself. Come back to me later and I will be your friend, but, I can't get you undrunk, and only you can make you stop.

I miss the you I can talk to. I miss the you who makes me smile. I miss the you I can help. And, I know that this is you too. You're not a pod people and you've only got the one of you in your head. So this is you too, you have your reasons for doing it, and to be your friend I need to accept that part of you, but I don't have to like it, and I don't have to sit around and pretend it's ok with me.