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 (Part 2 of 2).
Adapted from a collection of nightly...
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December 17
After a less than ideal sleep on a hundred-year-old vintage sofa, which smelled like it was 400, I stretched my legs, reached for my phone, and started swiping through Tinder. Priorities, people!
Aaron had left for work before I got up. I continued to bounce between dating apps until Sonny woke up. I didn't want to be walking around the apartment while someone I hardly knew was still sleeping. I mean, I had gotten to know a bit of Sonny last night while he and Aaron gave me a full State of the Union address. Although I practiced my best "listening" skills – i.e., a lot of "Oh, my Gods" and nodding, etc. – I still didn't really know the guy. Once Sonny got up, we spoke briefly. After a few minutes, Sonny grabbed a huge wad of cash from his gig earnings last night and left to visit the bank, buy a coffee, have a spare key made for me, and take that damn Chihuahua out for a shit.
Speaking of shits, I had a moment of my own as soon as Sonny vacated the apartment. I defecate best in an empty house. While organizing my luggage post-flush, Sonny came back with his coffee and the dog – but wasn't able to get a key made. Great. Listen. I realize when you're sleeping on someone's couch, you're already an inconvenience. However, why make it worse by forcing said guest to arrange every entrance and exit with you?
Anyway, Sonny came back. We ended up having a long chat about Aaron, their families, and their upcoming wedding. I've already written more than I would ever care to write about someone else's relationship. All I can say is that I wish them both the best.
In my opinion, Aaron has serious issues when it comes to expressing/suppressing his emotions. Even though you can tell Sonny has an issue with Aaron's lack of expression, it's also very clear that he's itching to walk down the aisle. Considering they technically got married last weekend in a courthouse ceremony, it all just seems like an excuse to receive gifts and party. Sonny doesn't even drink, though. God help the guests if it's a cash bar. To be fair, I'm projecting my general distain for weddings right now. Still, I'll say it. I don't want to go to Aaron's wedding.
While sitting on my hundred-year-old bed/sofa, Sonny and I got to know one another. Given that I've known Aaron for over six years, I had a few gems of my own to share. After all, this is the third boyfriend of Aaron's that I've met. I didn't talk any shit, but naturally Will Levroux came up. God, I miss the Will days. Will was so great.
After our catch-up, it was decided that we would simply leave the apartment together. Sonny would try and get a key made at another shop, then show me a cute café that I could work at. We left, the key shop wouldn't make the key, and I decided to forego the café in favor of some shopping. Sonny continued with his day. I visited Columbus Circle, Central Park, and a very crowded 5th Avenue before eventually meeting Aaron for an early dinner near the apartment. Honestly, I don't know why I visit New York City for so fucking long. I'm not doing this again.
Dinner was alright. I caught up with Aaron. We went back to the apartment afterwards, where he and Sonny continued their weird husband/wife role playing. Sonny pretended he didn't know how to work a lighter, while Aaron pretended he knew how to make a fire. Jesus Christ. I needed to get the fuck out of that apartment.
