jo ♡

Things I am not: social, most of the time.

I've spent the last two years or so hanging out with a mostly constant crowd that consisted primarily of two classmates with whom I was close friends. Others came and went, acquaintances more than real friends. I've been talking to such an acquaintance more this term, mostly due to school commitments. He's been studying with us lately, too.

While studying for statistical thermodynamics, said acquaintance came over to say something. We were all sitting and he was standing. Whether by accident or on purpose, he put his hands on my shoulders.

It was unbelievably uncomfortable.

This comes as a strange feeling since I've been okay with having two previously mentioned classmates in my bubble. We lived together for a while, and I like them both a lot. I haven't been uncomfortable with bodily contact in a longer while, and it was strange to realize that such an emotion existed.

I shook his hands off quickly, but the event just... squicked me out. I've been cutting a lot of unnecessary chatter from my conversations with him and generally just keeping people in between us. I am a bit worried as this is a person with whom I will be living next term. Granted, there will be a third roommate who is a good friend and with whom I am completely comfortable, but. I really wish he hadn't done that. On purpose or on accident.

Had a bittersweet realization last weekend that went along the lines of, "I have no friends." Or rather, I have very few friends.

Went out with M. and N. on Friday. Went to the de facto gay club in KW, Ren, and was pleasantly surprised to find people who respected my personal space for once. M. also spilled that apparently the rumour mill now says that since A. has broken up with E. he wants to get back into my pants. It ain't happening anytime soon, not if I have something to say about it. But it gave an interesting tinge to our latest communications.

M. went out again on Saturday night and got outrageously trashed. According to J. she chugged most of her bottle of rum before leaving and a few drinks at the club. J. came over to the house asking me if I'd give him a hand when the taxi she was in got there. No taxi came for a long time and J. got a message that the taxi went back to Ren and deposited M. into an ambulance. She spent the night in the hospital with apparently little recollection of anything.

That was when I realized that my circle of friends was lacking. I was worried and realized soon that I had nobody to talk to about the situation.

Anyway, M. is alright by her own admission, though mortified and humiliated at having spent a night getting her stomach pumped.

In less morose news, the latest episode of Doctor Who has filled me with silly amounts of glee. I loved River Song already. She is a badass character and Alex Kingston is utterly gorgeous. The events of A Good Man Gone to War just made me love her so much more. I ship her with the doctor so bad, I can't wait to see the rest of the season and all the seasons afterwards. So much love.

I keep hopping journals, feeling constricted by people I once trusted so much more.

Not quite sure what happened but I don't feel comfortable posting in my own space anymore. I feel like people are going to judge me and I feel severely disconnected from many people I used to call friends. They're still acquaintances and I still want to speak with them, but I no longer feel at ease posting deeply personal stuff where they can read it.

Since I got back to W., A. has been texting me again. Rumour mill says that he broke up with E. but they're still sleeping together. For my part, I feel like the more time I spend in this town without seeing him in person the easier it is to just transition into his being an acquaintance. I can actually get over him.

Went to a club yesterday. Left it with a blister on my baby toe and a bruise-less pain in my right foot where someone stepped on me with a heel. Whatever, they will pass. I'm more worried about my talent for attracting the wrong type of men. Some gent attempted to grind with me twice last night and put his hands around my waist and all. Got away both times but then I had to walk past him on the edge of the dance floor later and he grabs my arm and asks if I wanted to dance. I politely say no and keep walking as his friend yells after me, why not?! I don't understand why they expected me to explain myself to them when I have absolutely no obligation to. Or why asking, after violating my personal space twice, would suddenly make me change my mind? If he'd asked the first time, before he groped me, I might've agreed. But no, thanks. I'm good.

Been chatting with A. on and off all day today, it was kind of nice I suppose. Still, the familiar feeling of imposing on him is back and I think it's time to back off. I spent far too much time being "social" last night and combined with PMS it's not painting a nice picture for the next couple days. I feel like I need to stop trying to be an extrovert when those nights never end well.

Talking to people I trust intimately, even, doesn't make me feel better about life or society. I'm pretty sure M. knows everything there is to know about me, and yet I can't get this thing off my chest properly because she'll tell me to get over it and what else was I expecting in a club? My mother, who is my other best friend, would frown at my presence in a club, regardless of my being almost 21, and not pay attention to anything I said after that. And K., my best friend from high school, would also tell me that's just how life is and that men are terrible pigs.

I know there are some that aren't, because I still treasure moments I had with A. We had tears and fights, of course, but the things I remember are the moments we spent in peace and quiet, tender touches, and the affection I still feel towards him, even as he is someone else's man now. Although I am more grown up now, and probably wouldn't take him back if he tried, I also savor those memories. Having my heart broken was something that I really needed in my life, to give me some perspective and understanding.

I feel like if I said that anywhere else I would get chastized for being anti-feminist and propagating emotional abuse towards myself, but thinking of myself right now and back then, I am glad it worked out the way it did. I definitely prefer myself now, having had the experiences I did, and I wouldn't trade them away.

I want A. to be a friend again. I invested so much effort into actually opening myself up to him that he knows more about me than most people I call friends anyway. I would love to go out for a beer with him, and to be able to trust that, if need be he'd get me home and wouldn't take advantage of me.

Romantic? Probably. Will I get burned? Most likely. Oh well.