Ignore the title. After all, those are not directions I tend to follow anymore(edit: i just totally confused myself with this one. im blaming ambien). For example, currently it is 1:41am central standard time. The moon is a strange color and is postulating in an eerie sense underneath the veil of fog that seems to want to bind and fuck that moon. I've had some drinks tonight. I've popped an ambien and I'm at the stage where I am seeing things. And here, I sit. Listening to 'Hurricane' on repeat for three songs, and then skipping to 'Alibi' for three songs, and continue ad nauseam. I told myself I wouldn't write this entry today. In fact, you couldn't blame me if I stopped. My pajamas are half on, my hair in a ponytail, not a trace left of the smoky eye makeup I fancy so much. So I'm feeling quite a bit vulnerable. I can still feel his sweat on my skin and it is making me shudder.
This evening the plan was to go see a band (who will not be named, to protect the guilty) that my nephew loves. LOVES. I'm talking fist pumping, all capslock, LOVE. Since the show was in Wisconsin, we road tripped it. I remained noncommital on who else would be attending, only because the worst scenario ever could go down, and I really did not want that to happen, at all. Moving along while I take you on the vague path to vagueville, I was walking up the backstairs to get into the vip balcony seats. It was about two hours before the show was even to start but I figured I'd find a good perch and commence the drinking. And then, it happened.
I didn't see him at first, but I felt him. Yes, that sounds creepy. No, it really wasn't. However it was awkward. He (names omitted to protect the barely innocent) immediately grabbed me in a hug while two of his band members did the nervous shuffle-checkphone-lookoverthere thing that I wished I was doing. It was a hug that lasted slightly too long, it was slightly damp, and I was kinda perplexed about it considering the last time I was in a room with him and his bandmates I told him to go fuck himself with a rake sideways, and he lunged to either eat my brain or chew off my face. Not sure what his tactic would have been. Either way, it was interesting. I detached as quick as was polite and ran up to the balcony so I could peek down at the revelers below.
Take two. I stopped writing this blog last night as I realized Three's Company was on, and I chose to eat some popsicles and watch that instead until I inevitably passed out from a combination of pharmaceuticals and faux exhaustion. So let me pick up where I left off, only now this entry is sure to be lacking a bit of pizazz.
I had plenty of time during the shitty opening act to let my mind wander, and right after some hilarious texting regarding my boyfriend's new nickname being 'Captain Brittania', I was haunted once more by the same creature from my past.
He apparently couldn't leave well enough alone as he stalked over to me, and grabbed my arm. I was slightly confused as he had a hoodie on, and sort of looked menacing. I was pretty sure that he had a fleeting thought about punching me in the ladyparts, but that's neither here nor there. What transpired was an apology, for nearly attacking me, and that I didn't deserve it then.
WHAT!?! I was fucking floored. Way to completely change the way I saw a person. Even his professional image belied the words he said. But there it was, spelled out before me, with an expectant impish grin waiting my acceptance? So what could I do, at that point? Considering that chapter of my life has long since been closed, it never left anything other than fond memories and a slight amount of shame, and my life is completely different from the person I was back then, would I really be petty enough to deny him that? Nah. So we toasted to old memories, old tour bus escapades, and whatever the future brought to both of us, independently. He no longer had a weight of guilt on his shoulders, and let's face it. I had comped drinks the rest of the night. Huzzah!
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