I didn’t sleep much last night. I couldn’t. I set a false “work” alarm for 7:30 a.m. so I had an excuse to leave Buck’s hotel suite as early as possible. As I began to gather my things and get dressed, Buck asked for my phone number. Reluctantly, I gave it to him and headed for the door.
“I don’t know if yer a kinda guy like this, but I’d luv ta take ya out fer a caffee,” Buck said in his hillbilly accent.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” I said as I gave him half a hug goodbye and scouted out the nearest elevator.
As bad as last night was, the depressive humiliation I experienced this morning had more to do with my actions and low self-esteem than it did with Buck. Overall, he was a nice guy. Wasted, but nice. As such, I didn’t want to completely shut him down. I’ve been in that situation before and I know how much it can hurt. I didn’t have any intention of ever seeing him again, but there was no reason he couldn’t have my number.
I texted Buck my name in the elevator and then began my short walk home to the Witch Cave. I’m writing this before bed right now, and I never heard back from him. I don’t even know if his name was actually Buck, to be honest. I think I might have just made that up when I couldn’t hear him properly at the bar last night. At this point, I don’t really care.
I arrived at the Witch Cave, grabbed my stuff, and then went back to Casa Z and took a very long nap. Afterwards, I did my thing in the gym for a while and had my standard post-drinking cry.
Last night was horrible. It was perhaps second only to that dangerously messy night I had during Oktoberfest in rural Germany in 2013. I can’t believe what I did to my body. I’m so disappointed in myself. I didn’t even look at a guy while he was penetrating me. Fuck.
At the same time, I don’t regret last night. I can’t. I know exactly what I was trying to do. It didn’t work, but I actively made the decision to go home with “Buck” and spend the night with him. What I’m upset about is the fact that I was even in a position where I would feel the need to do something like that in the first place. Am I that pathetic?
It’s been almost a week since I last heard from Logan. I can’t believe this. I seriously cannot. I don’t understand how, or why this is happening? How has Logan not contacted me at all? Nothing! A part of me is hoping that this actually is nothing. That it’s simply all in my head. Logan will message me, and we’ll pick right back up where we left off. Everything will be good. We’ll be great, and I’ll actually get to see him again. He’ll come visit me!
The other side of me is not as positive. I’m devastated that this might be the end. What Logan and I had is now over and done with. All of the magic has faded away. The ideas I had about something that was so exciting and hopeful – that made me feel so good inside – are all gone and I’ll never get them back. I’ll never see Logan again and he will just fade away into a brief moment of my life’s history.
No. Stop. I can’t even stomach that thought. I think about Logan disappearing and it triggers a complete nervous breakdown. That’s my anxiety. I’ve pinpointed it.
I felt a bit better after my workout. In an attempt to have some more social time with friends, I invited Dan, Connor, and Evan to spend a night at Casa Z. I picked the three of them up at the Fairview Mall subway station, and after a trip to Walmart, we went to the house and did our thing. It was fun! We made dinner, baked cookies, watched TV, went in the hot tub, and watched Spice World. A good night, indeed.
We also smoked weed via a third lung. You know, that plastic bag taped to the two-liter Coke bottle deal? Yeah, that one. Everyone except Connor smoked tonight. After trying it with me multiple times over the years, it doesn’t seem to sit well with him, which is totally understandable. In fact, I kind of envy Connor for knowing how to avoid something that doesn’t work for him. I haven’t learned how to do that.
The four of us went in the hot tub after blazing in my bathroom. A group Pow-Wow, if you will. Dan, Evan, and I were on a such good highs, but Connor was making me really uncomfortable. He was so uneasy the whole time, and I couldn’t figure out why. I know it’s likely because I was on another planet, but Connor seemed to be having some sort of mini freak out in the hot tub, which was causing me to have an internal panic attack of my own. I was way too high to take care of anyone but myself in that moment, and I couldn’t tell if Connor was being genuinely nervous – i.e., having an actual anxiety attack – or trying to trip me out on purpose. Given the fact that it all settled down soon after we got out of the hot tub, I’m thinking it was just me. Oh, well.
After the hot tub, that’s when we watched Spice World and then went to bed. I’m still upset about Logan. I hope I hear from him soon. I miss him so much.