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

November 19

November 19

I'm not sure if it was the culmination of a sleep-deprived week or this weed, but there was no way I was getting out of bed before noon this morning. Actually, there was no way I was getting out of bed before 2:30 p.m., which was when I officially woke up. Now that it's dark outside at 5 p.m., that means I experienced daylight for 2.5 hours today.

I had such weird dreams last night. They were all about RX. Again. It's been getting on my nerves. The dreams are always about us getting back together. Same plot, different setting. Note to self: I don't wanna dream that!

I've been thinking a lot about the standards of adult life that I'm supposed to grow into. Being back on these dating apps has me rethinking a lot of my ideas about marriage. It's weird how your mind comes to different revelations when you're stoned.

Today, I was high at the gym. While lying on my yoga mat and thinking about messaging RX, something inside of me clicked. You know, for the 700th time. I need to stop being so pathetic. Despite what I might want from RX – or think I want from him – clearly, it's not going to happen. There have been so many occasions where I've gone out of my way to communicate with RX, or create situations where all he has to do is reciprocate, and nothing ever happens. Why am I wasting my time?

With the marriage stuff – since that's what all of my dreams seem to be about lately – I also started thinking about how you change as a person over time. With that in mind, how can you be sure that your life partner is going to change alongside you? If that doesn't happen, and you end up growing apart, does your relationship change from a marriage to a contract? Isn't that what marriage is anyway? A signed document, binding you to life-long terms?

Despite my bleak sleep patterns, I still managed to get enough done today that I felt accomplished. Listen. I would love to spend my Saturdays going to trendy brunch spots or shopping in Yorkville. Unfortunately, my pants and wallet do not allow for either. I made lunch at home, did some writing, and then got really high and went to the gym.

Being stoned at the gym is a very hit or miss situation. Sometimes, it can feel as though you are having the best workout of your life. Other times, it feels like you've been running for days when it's only been five minutes. Fortunately, today was the former. I was able to power through my workout quicker than most sober days. After my standard routine, I took the subway back to the Witch Cave.

Connor was going to Fly tonight. Dan was interested, too. I'm not one for Fly, but was in the mood for something social. I began to consider the idea of paying cover to attend that dreadful gay rave. Eventually, that consideration evolved into Dan and Zack coming over to drink at my place. When the clock struck midnight, the three of us decided that joining Connor at Fly was not going to happen. Instead, we would spend the rest of our night down the street at Woody's. No cover? That works for me!

The Witch Cave pre-drink was a lot of fun. We drank, listened to music, and played Super Nintendo. Zack's a really nice guy. If I could have sex with him, I would ride his dick into the sunset. That will never happen, though. I have a feeling I'm not Zack's type.

As usual, Woody's was also a great time. My friend George ended up at the bar as well, so we hung out and talked for a while. George is fucking hysterical. Someone like George causes me to re-think what I value in a relationship. Even though our friendship is fairly new, and hasn't really developed past Facebook or seeing one other at gay bars, George is one of the few people who can make me genuinely laugh. I appreciate that humor so much. Physically, George is not my type. I don't find myself sexually attracted to him. I am certainly attracted to him mentally, though. Do you need both for a successful relationship?

Tonight, I also saw the guy from Halloween who has a kid. Well, I think he has a kid. I'm still not convinced. The guy jokes about being a "dad," but in the gay world that can mean something completely different. I don't think I've mentioned him. To be honest, I can't even remember his name right now. We'll call him Daddio. We talked outside the bar for a while this evening. Daddio is definitely handsome, but when you're in your late-thirties, with child, and going out to bars to flirt with guys every weekend, I'm thinking that he's not looking for much in the way of a relationship. Jesus. Could I be any more desperate?

In case you missed it, this is an entire journal entry about me analyzing relationships. As if I'm the fucking expert. I've had one boyfriend, and that was five years ago. A part of me doesn't want another one either. I don't think I can handle the end of another long-term relationship. Actually, that's something I've recently come to accept. I have a very hard time dealing with change, and letting things go. I also realize how difficult that's going to make my life.

After walking home from the bar, I miraculously managed to make roasted potatoes and a grilled cheese without burning down my apartment. I just finished eating everything in bed while blazing and watching The Nanny. It's my way of reminding myself that I am very, very single.

Goodnight xo