Frustrations

As my junior/senior/third/whatever year draws to a close, I'm learning a few things about myself. Throughout college, I have not been a partier. I went to one frat party. It took me two years in my a cappella group to actually start going to their parties with any regularity (and I'm still an uncommon sight among them). This week, however, I apparently donned a new personality and spent both Tuesday and Thursday night partying how I never imagined I would. I went to my first bar and a boy I'm not dating bought me my first shot. I danced with strangers. I got an all-you-can-drink bracelet. I am retrospectively hating myself.

I don't get hangovers. A little dehydrated, sure. I do not sleep til noon and crawl out of bed with a headache the size of my regret and nurse coffee for the next three hours. Even so, I can feel that I'm not on my game and I hate the idea that I can't lose myself in fun unless I've had a few drinks. I also hate getting exciting news via text and being too disoriented to properly care about it.

I think there are just too many things happening at once. I start partying right before a bunch of my friends are graduating and the frustration with myself doubles the sadness and confusion of people disappearing from my life. I haven't actually hung out with my best friend in over two weeks (he doesn't drink and so did not join us for Tuesday and Thursday) and I hate ending my semester on this note. I'm going to go home for three months where my family antagonizes my veganism and everything is dirty all the time and I have to pretend that I haven't changed since high school so I can keep up with the mindless banter with the old friends who live in town. I get so accustomed to being free and totally myself here that it drives me nuts to go "home" and be someone else.

I am looking forward to being closer to Tristan, though. Long-distance, while feasible, is not something that either of us has particularly enjoyed and it'll be nice to be in the same area again. Admittedly, we'll still be 40-60 minutes apart, but that's better than 3-4 hours by a long shot. I just want to be like we were last fall when campus was warm and he was here and I got to live in my house and no one judged me for my choices and there was dancing and beach excursions and picnics and late nights watching Whose Line with the bff.

I know my life is easier than most, and I do appreciate the good in my life. I guess sometimes I just get tired of being the shoulder that's cried on and never getting to vent myself, you know?

I need to go before I whine too much more.
I need to get out.