Distraction

I am going to deal with this the only way I know how . . .

Life is so mysterious. It's a sort of sad day in the life of me today.

Let me start out by saying that I do not believe this is because of one boy or one incident. It would seem foolish and superficial of me to write what has happened to me off as just a reaction to being rejected. The truth of the matter is, I was fooling myself into being interested in someone for lack of anyone else to be interested in. I was attracted to him, but I think that's where it began and ended. I was foolish and this has taught me, once again, that attraction does not make a bond or, obviously, a relationship. For some people, but not me, being physical with someone is reserved for a relationship only. There is no such thing as just hooking up or dating and having fun. That is fine and I'd like to have less superficial relationships with the opposite sex, but alas, I have to take what I can get and give. So far, that has been my experience.

If you're still reading this post, I applaud you. I have gone way off the track from my original aim. This isn't about relationships or my sad song about the lack thereof. This is about my mortality.

I blacked out/passed out this morning for the first time in my life. The causes remain varied and obscure- I had worked out pretty heavily yesterday morning, I didn't eat enough during the day and I drank a couple of drinks on a fairly empty stomach pretty hasitly. I'd been feeling sick all day and out of it for the past couple of days and I guess it all caught up with me in that moment.

That moment is the one where he basically told me it was all in my head and that he wasn't interested in a relationship, or anything it turns out, at all. Wow, how can this be happening to me again under such different circumstances?

And in that moment, I didn't want his love or his arms around me. I wanted . . .I don't know. I wanted some Truth, I guess. but not his truth.

While I was talking to him, the world slowly went to black starting with the right side of my vision, and I initially thought I was just experiencing a blood rush to the head. This was different. This was like I was a computer who's monitor went into sleep mode. Then the sound slowly muted. Reality set in . . . it was like all the rejection I've experienced from an early age hijacked my vision and hearing. I was truly all alone with my thoughts and my voice.

All I kept thinking was: "God, I don't want to die. Not like this. Not with some fucking 30-year-old pothead in his room that had black light posters and who, most importantly, doesn't give a shit about me."

And the pothead told me to breathe and to calm down and I tried. I needed water. I needed to get to the bathroom. I wanted to be alone. I was embarrassed. What a great fucking time for my body to betray me.

I slowly came to while on the floor in his hallway. I looked around. I don't remember seeing him. It was freaky. I finally got to the bathroom and drank the water he got for me and looked in the mirror to see that I had a pimple on my forehead. "Great," I thought. "I'm still alive."

I don't know if I believe in God. I thought about my life during that black time. I thought about my mom and how I couldn't leave her. I thought about my dad, whom is always just out of my reach, and how he's given me the blueprint to go after these way unavailable guys. I thought vaguely about my brothers. I thought vaguely about the little girl I used to nanny for, Clare, who I feel so connected and responsible for. One day I want a little girl just like her.

Then I realized, "Holy shit, Adrienne! You are 23 and you are working at a music night club with these people who are super nice, but super content. You're here for so much more." I realized, like a broken record, I need to move to NYC. I need to do it again for myself. I need to chase after fame. These are things I've always wanted.

Love, of course, I want that, but you can't force it. You can't fake it. I for sure didn't feel any love for this latest guy. Not at all. Nor adoration. No wish to marry him. Nothing of the sort. I think I just wanted his body and attention. So why in the hell did I let him affect me so damn much?

My new plan is to move to NYC for real this time. Try acting, join a band and for real. Be a fabulous singer and that's it. There's nothing wrong with that. Do it the right way, not relying on anyone else for this to happen. This is just what has to be done. I lack stability in my life. I lack direction. I lack a solid plan and these are things that need to change.

Because you never know when life will blackout for good.

And furthermore, love is all around me. Life is too short for a pothead distraction.