Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax'd Millennial (Part 2 of 12)

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Hi, I’m Kurt. A binge-drinking, pill-popping disco diva with a heart of platinum and an appetite for self-destruction. Welcome to Sleepless Solitude: The True-Life Journals of a Xanax’d Millennial. Adapted from a collection of nightly journal entries, Sleepless Solitude details the promiscuous highs and drug-induced lows of a gay millennial in his mid-twenties as he tries to find his way through the swamp of young adulthood. Covering an entire year, the blog posts serve as a chronological, behind-the-scenes look at what happens when the party stops and the Hangover Blues kick in. At its core, Sleepless Solitude is an effort in sharing personal truths. By revealing intimate thoughts and vulnerabilities with each journal entry, the aim is to present a mind and story void of social media filters. Life isn’t always a celebration, it’s not always sunny, and sometimes you blackout and break a few teeth. The best I can do right now is try and pick up the pieces. Goodnight xo

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February 1

February 1

Rolled out of bed bright and early and took my seat on a mostly empty MegaBus at 9 a.m. Much to my surprise, the whole experience was actually pretty decent. I had four chairs and a table to myself, so I even managed to get some work done with the barely-there Wi-Fi. It definitely didn’t feel like a 12-hour trip, although I could have done without the intense interrogation at the Niagara Falls border.

A big part of me was nervous about this trip. Not the bus part, obviously, but visiting Logan. He was texting me throughout the day, but I was in a bit of a mood so I was being short with him at times. For example, when he was saying how excited he was to see me. I really wanted to reciprocate those feelings, but something in me couldn’t respond with the same sentiment. Honestly, the situation at this point has changed from me being mostly upset, to mostly embarrassed. I still feel pushed away by Logan, but I also feel like a bit of a fool because of how I got so wrapped up in everything. It was a little dramatic of me.

Arrived in Times Square around 9 p.m. and immediately jumped on the subway to Logan’s apartment on the Upper West Side. The door opened and there he was. It was awkward. At least, it was at first. I was flustered and I didn’t know how to act around him. I mean, Logan just told me a few days ago that he doesn’t feel the same way about me, but here I was in his doorway about to spend an entire week with him.

There was no sense in beating around the bush. Soon enough my word vomit started and I told Logan that I was feeling pushed away and embarrassed. I wasn’t trying to start anything. It was simply my weird way of trying to explain the anxiety and hesitation I was experiencing as I stood there nervously silent. He stuttered out about three words before he finally said he didn’t know what to say. I let it all go after that. Sometimes I just need to get things off my chest before I can move forward, for better or for worse. I said my piece, we kissed, and that was that.

Logan was really cute, though. We walked into the bedroom/living room area (it’s a large studio apartment with a separate space for the kitchen) and he had laid out a full spread of wine and snacks for us. It was very thoughtful of him. We sat, talked, laughed, and being at his side again felt so incredible.

Eventually, we moved to the bed and made out for a very long time before falling asleep. There was one point when Logan was lying on his back and I was sitting on top of him. My signature straddle move. I was looking deep into his eyes. Mesmerized. The moment became too much for me to process. I turned away and put my head down beside his, because I felt like I was going to start crying. That’s got to stop, though. I’m happy to be here. I want to make the best of this.

Goodnight xo

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