Laying Down the Straw

I am so tired. Mind-numbingly fatigued. I am sitting at work. It is torture. I am surrounded by beautiful and inviting comfortable furniture. I can't go near any of it. It's too risky. I fear that I will put my head down for just a moment and inadvertently fall into a deep, coma-like sleep. I'll wake up tomorrow morning to find myself still here, my now-dirty clothes rumpled and smelling like the drug and alcohol toxins that managed to avoid my liver but wormed their way through my pores during the night instead. The front door of the store will still be thrown open from today, and I will wonder what strange people passed through here and openly mocked my still and sleeping form before they left with whatever they could carry in their greedy, looting arms. The upside of this scenario is that I am not, for once in my life, late for work.

As you may have guessed, it was a late night last nig... er, this morning. Why the hell do I keep doing this to myself? Granted, I spent nearly all of these early morning hours canoodling with Steve in my living room (whenever his cock-blocking friend Mike would leave the room to use my computer for naughty chats), so it's perfectly justified. But did we have to do coke, too? No. In fact, I didn't really want to do it (cue Grandmaster Flash), but I did it anyway. Not because I don't enjoy it, but because I had dabbled in it on Sunday night, and the Friday night before, and I kind of thought, well, that's enough of that for awhile. Yet I still partook. And just for good measure, we polished off a bottle of red wine, too.

Partook... is that really a word, I wonder? It sounds like a magical spear once used to catch eels in Atlantis. Or perhaps a strange Inuit delicacy. But I'm straying...

I pose the question - am I an addict?

Even as I write it, I can't take it seriously. I'm know I'm not. It's simply that sometimes I don't say "no", even when I know I should. But I can say no. (I'm not unaware of how completely and utterly cliche this sounds. Laugh if you must - I know I am.) Taking complete responsibility for everything in my life is a tenet I swear by - we always have a choice. But I feel like shit today, and I don't like it, so it's time to stop making bad choices. I haven't been paying attention to the road and I've slowly drifted over to the shoulder - it's time to take back the fucking wheel before I find myself head first in a ditch.

I had this epiphany at about five a.m. I was about to lay down my straw when I noticed a bit of blood on it. "Oh dear," I said in a self-deprecating tone that I hoped masked my complete mortification. I casually got up and threw away the straw in the kitchen wastebin, then went to the bathroom to deal with the Stevie Nicks-like trickle slowly making its way out of my right nostril.

I looked deep into the dilated pupils of the fellow staring back at me in the mirror. "You, my friend," I thought, "are ridiculous. This has got to stop." It was truly an afterschool special moment. Then I headed back into the living room and finished up my evening.

So the decision had been made. I know myself well enough to know when I'm letting things get out of control and it's high time I draw the line. I am laying down the straw. Not for good - I don't deal well with ultimatums - but for now. For awhile.

Besides, if my instincts are correct and I'm not misinterpeting the signs, Steve seems to be as into me as I am into him. We met nine days ago and we've hung out for five of them. He actually returns my calls, and even calls me without me having to call first. While I'm still wary of rushing into any grand romantic notions (obviously... I mean, like, wow! he meets my phone call standards!) this is definitely potential boyfriend territory. I don't want to establish a pattern of getting annihilated every time we hang out together.

Thankfully we seem to be on the same page. In between kissing and cuddling, we spent some time last night talking about how we want to spend April going to movies, seeing some theatre, and other low-key, organ-friendly date options. He was very disappointed that I don't own a bicycle - I am hoping to make up for this by suggesting pool/sauna/sleepover nights. I think it's a reasonable trade off.

Despite my fears, I'm giving into the crush. Fuck it. Even if I get my heart broken in the end, at least I'll be able to say I gave it my best shot. All things considered, it's a risk worth taking.