I was going to call you, blog, but I figured you just spent an entire weekend with me getting black out drunk, punching, laughing, wrestling, and apparently undressing me. We have the weirdest of friendships.
So I didn't call. I could call tomorrow. But there's something I've gotta get off my chest. I'd like to say it to you in person, but unfortunately I had to work and you were hung over. Not the best time for talking.
Trust me, I would have stayed if I could have. Fuck work. I'd rather hang out with you.
Anyway. On to my cool words I have to say.
For what it's worth, I don't think you're a whore.
I want to explain myself because I don't feel that I actually justified why I said what I said. Not that I should justify it. It's kind of a shitty thing to say. Which is why I got punched in the face. (Which is going to be my new favorite story of all time).
I recall saying something about how you think you know exactly what the score is when it comes to my thoughts and feelings and you gave me that classic Emily look. That's not a fight I want to argue right now, but I wanted to bring it up because it kind of ties in.
Think back to when you asked me if it was weird that the thought of Josh having a girlfriend makes you a little jealous. Not jealous because you want to date him yourself, jealous because he's YOUR friend. It makes sense. A lot of people feel that way about the people closest to them. And Josh and you have a history in that you've known each other a long time. He's one of those "closest to you", if I'm not mistaken (and I'm not.)
So, take these things and put them together. I was angry because I drove two and a half hours down and here you are talking about all these people you wanted to invite. You know how I feel about Patrick. Habacuc is whatever to me. This new guy? Fuck that guy because I hate guys anyway.
I got jealous because I drove to see you and you just wanted to go see other people. I was hurt because, obviously you wouldn't have cared if I stayed or went. My vindictive, angry, tequila-driven side came out and the first thing I wanted to do was hurt you like I was hurt. I was angry so I wanted to make you angry. The easiest way to dig into you was, apparently, to call you a whore.
-I- wanted your attention. I don't get to see you and I wanted your attention and fuck all of those other guys because they can see you whenever they want to see you. I have to ask off work and drive for two and a half hours. Fuck those guys, this is my time.
And that totally makes me sound like... a fucking moron. It's not like I want a stronghold of every second of your day. I just don't get to see you often (until I move, hopefully) and I want to get in as much fun time with you as I can before I have to make that shitty drive all the way to a place I don't want to be. The drive home is the worst, despite my nerves on the drive down.
Much like your mild jealousy of Sammy (Didn't think I'd forget, did you?), I too am prone to being jealous.
I do hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.
Also, I'm not so much apologizing for saying it as I am explaining it. Like you said, we're even. I just... I dunno. The look in your eyes when you said "You really think I'm a whore, don't you?" just kind of got to me. Probably because of all my Catholic guilt I have saved up. We were both too sleepy and drunk, though, for me to string together a coherent response.
At the risk of sounding like a tool, I am really thankful that we have the kind of friendship we have. Even if we fight, even if it's kind of a bad fight, we're still up until 7am drinking and laughing and having fun. It's kind of our thing. That's what we do. 7am is the shit, yo.
I don't know that I've ever been more comfortable in a friendship as I am in this one. It's kind of weird. I mean, yeah, Matt and I are close and have that bromance going on. Heather and Sam are cool. Sammy just fucking -gets it-. But I can hide one thing or another all day when it comes to them. You're the only one that I'm a totally open book to. At times, much to both of our dismay.
So thanks for putting up with me and letting me put up with you. It's crazy that some random cute girl in my philosophy classes turned out to be so important to me in the long run. That's pretty neat. Hopefully we'll be annoying, teasing, pestering, drinking with, laughing, secret-telling, and having fun with each other for a long time. Somehow, I'm not worried about that.
Wow! This got kind of stupid and sappy. That's retarded.
Let me end on these two notes:
1. If you don't know the song in the title, I'm going to be so sad at you.
2. You're every bit as funny, intelligent, and hot as Sammy is. And you know it. My little narcissist.
[boom]
P.S. I found this while fucking around online and, naturally, I thought of you.
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