Holy shit! Man walks on the fucking MOON!

So I can hear the rush of the ocean right now.  The fucking RUSH of the ocean – the endless pounding surf upon cowering sand and rocks.  It’s incredible. 

So I’m at boy’s beachfront condo, and I’ve been here one night so far.  I am really impressed by the ‘fanciness’ of everything.  I mean, I woke up this morning listening to pseudo ‘big-band’ music, and had black coffee with some "fresh-baked" raspberry(?) raisin bread and watched the infinity splash against the shore.  It’s nice, but I feel entirely out of my league.

So last night, I wanted to drink, and by wanted to drink, I mean, I sat on the recliner with my head in my hands thinking and thinking and thinking, and the conclusion that I came to was that if I didn’t say anything and didn’t sneak alcohol into my pepsi, that I wouldn’t drink.  I even texted a friend of mine and asked him what I should do.  Luckily he responded with ‘not drink, obviously.  silly.’  which was incredibly helpful.

But I mean, c’mon!  It’s the fucking ocean, I’m here with my boyfriend, watching the fucking sun set over the fucking ocean.  Some wine would set that evening off beautifully, and of all the quintessential romantic elements, the only one missing was a nice pinot noir.

But I didn’t drink.  I was really scared, too.  It was intense.  But I didn’t.  One day at a time, I guess.

So boy didn’t want to hold me during the sunset because he was self-conscious for some stupid reason.  I got upset at him, but things resolved themselves rather easily with some good communication.  It was weird to talk because I’m not used to expressing my feelings without the crutch of alcohol to diffuse the lucidity and potentially painful pointedness that tends to accompany talking about your feelings (especially in a situation where you’re mad about something).  So I awkwardly told him how I felt. 

I didn’t feel like being upset with him was a valid feeling because he’s essentially treating me to this entire experience.  I kind of felt that my upset-edness was easily overlooked because of the environment that we were in, and the context of my place in this whole endeavor.  I just felt like I was looking a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak.  But boy assured me that my feelings were valid, and that it was okay to have them.

I feel like I’m in some type of ridiculous ‘put the round peg in the round hole’ class for emotional incompetents.

So yay.

But anyway, I’m at the beach with boy.  And I can hear the rush of the ocean right now.  The fucking RUSH of the ocean – the endless pounding surf upon cowering sand and rocks.  It’s incredible.