I Am Such a Fucking Idiot

So … on Thursday night, I went out and got drunk. D-r-u-n-k. Blind, stinkin’ drunk. Me and a couple of my work colleagues had been invited to a training evening, but the training evening was actually an evening in a not-so-local pub, with a free bar. As you can probably imagine, it turned into less of a work event and more of a complete disaster the more the night went on … and the more the beer flowed.

I had a fantastic night, flirting a little too much with the work colleague I might have a little bit of a weird crush on, and it didn’t take long for me to start drunk texting my actual boyfriend. That’s Jock, in case you’ve forgotten.

“Hey babe! I’m drunk. You good?”

“Yep, all good here. Miss u.”

“Miss you too! I think I love you a little bit.”

No.

Oh no no no.

I didn’t …

I really fucking did.

WHY DID I DO THAT?

I must’ve meant the words a bit, right; otherwise, why would I have said them when I was drunk? Doesn’t alcohol make you tell the truth more? But why? I love you a little bit? CRINGE. Why just a little bit? Why at all?? I fall in love at the drop of a hat, we all know that, but I’m not even sure I love Jock yet, so why the FUCK did I have to say that to him? In written format, no less, so he’s got a record of it to use against me at any point in the future.

I’m so embarrassed.

I think I love him a little bit, yes. I’m smitten. I want to spend more time with him and get to know him better and see where we end up … but I’m not ready for the big I-love-you spiel just yet. I need to work through more stuff in my head before I feel ready and comfortable saying it to him. I hoped that maybe we could just brush it under the carpet as a drunken thing, nothing to take notice of, but I don’t have that much luck, apparently.

“Awww. You were lovely last night. We mini rawr each other.”

[Mini rawr = How to Make Him Love You in 34 Days]

Ugh, he wants to talk about it. There’s no brushing this particular fuck-up under the carpet, it seems.

“I’m hungover and I don’t want to talk about this via text message. Can we pick this up when we see each other, please?” I asked him.

And thankfully, he said: “Yes”.

How do I explain this to him? I don’t even know how to explain my feelings to myself, or to you guys. I don’t know how I feel. I think I’m falling in love with him. In fact, I’m pretty sure I am. But I don’t want to go rushing headlong into something that’s going to hurt further down the line.

I watched some Sex and the City; the one where Carrie and Aidan break up for the second time and she hides in her bathroom for three hours so she doesn’t have to watch or acknowledge him leaving. All of a sudden, as I sat there with tears running down my face for Carrie’s make-believe pain, I remembered every devastating breakup I ever went through. How Big Love broke my heart so spectacularly that I thought I was never going to love again, and when The Hubby tore me apart from the inside out, going against every single vow we made to each other on our wedding day.

Am I really ready to go through that again? Because if I fall in love with Jock, it’s probably going to end in disaster at some point, right? If I let him into my life, he might not be one of those little, fleeting bursts: he might be the big magical thing if we both gave it a shot … but do I want to give it a shot? Do I really want to fall in love again just so that I can go and get my heart broken again? What are the chances of Jock and I really having that happy-ever-after? I’ve thought every man I opened my heart up to has been my happy-ever-after and look how all of those turned out. Disasters, one after the other, each one a little bit bigger and more fuck-uppier than the one before.

I want to be happy. I really, really do. But do I really believe that Jock is my big end? Are we really that compatible that we could go the distance? I think I might be too cynical to believe that’s true, especially after putting all of my eggs into Big Love’s basket and then having them dropped and smashed on the floor right in front of me. And I can see the same thing happening with Jock: I’ll fall hopelessly in love with him, lose all of my ‘power’, and then end up unceremoniously dumped, without a second thought. And aren’t I already falling hopelessly in love? It’s only going to be a matter of time before I lose all of my ‘power’. Then, Dumpsville it’ll be for me.

I want to talk to him about this, but I know he’ll wrap those arms around me, look at me with those massive blue eyes and tell me that everything will be okay … and I’ll believe him, at least for a moment. It’ll feel good, so good, and we’ll probably have sex before he goes on to make me a cup of tea and laugh at/with me — but then I’ll realise that we didn’t have the conversation I wanted to have and it’ll float above our heads like this awkward, stinkin’ cloud.

He says all the right things. He does all the right things. But is it genuine? And if it is, am I really ready for it?

I’m never drinking and texting again.

(I probably will.)

Thanks so much for reading my blog today! 🖤

Read all about Jock, the full chapter, from start to finish, right here. 

If you’re in the market for something a lil’ spicier, why not check out one of my smutty favourites:

• Break Up with Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored
• Two, Maybe Three Times
• You’ve Missed Her

notsosexinthecity

Spicy blogger. Fairy frogmother. Gobshite. 🎭 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎. (𝙼𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢.)

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