Ok, so for the past year, perhaps two you've had this urge to go out and do the things you hear people your age are doing. The bars, the music, the men, and all that jazz. And you reason with yourself, no it's so empty and it's just distraction, it's not really living. But nevertheless you have that quiet resentment that you aren't one of those people just going out. To be free and careless and not thinking for once.
So I've decided to screw resentment, if I'm so curious I ought to quite complaining and just pursue what I want. I went out. I went bar hopping with my friend. I danced with men, cute men who I'd never imagine would be interested in me. And then the French man named Alex who kept offering to buy you drinks and ragging on American boys with their red-neck round shoes and how a fancy French man knows to wear pointy shoes, etc. Who teaches you to dance with the whole sweep her back and stick his face in the nook of her neck dance. Yeah, it was like that. And odd for someone as technically naive as I am. And I recall thinking this guy is seriously pissing me off. And I recall lying, "I have a boyfriend" so he might leave his drunken flirtations for another girl.
But thankfully another fellow comes along named Pierre, this one isn't French, who takes him outside and literally saves you. Thank God for Pierre. But I seriously need to learn how to tell a guy NO. For by that point of the night, who gives a shit that he paid for your drinks?
What's interesting though, is that despite all these pretty boys and fun flirtatious smiles, I really wish I were just home hanging out with that guy-friend of mine who likes to wear my butterfly wings and sing niggunim.
So it was a long night, full of stories similar to these and yeah the dead, empty feeling lingers but at least the resentment is gone.
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