Drunk Confessions

Wow. It's been too long since I've last posted on this blog. Too long. Honestly though, I don't see why I should care. Lol.

Anyway, I've been reading back to my previous entries, and I can't believe that I could write like that(please refer to my blog entry entitled, "I am most definitely NOT a morning person"). Honestly, I don't know if you would consider it worthy of praise, but my imagination got carried away as I was reading it. (Of course it did, you've imagined it before, duh!)

I'm starting to lose track of what I initially wanted to write. This entry is about some of the horrible mistakes I've made whilst under the influence of alcohol (i.e. Living Under the Influence), and how those mistakes affected the morning after... Okay, I'm going to stop here. I've started drinking when I was 16, and I've only been drunk for like, 3 times? Lol. As far as I know, the magic number I'm looking for is 3. The first time was at our house at Batangas with my college friends - one story at a time, I'm being generous here. The second one was at an inuman session/sleepover at a friend's house - a drunken confession lies within this story, but, again, one story at a time. Although I really disagree when my friends tell me that I was drunk that night. Extremely tipsy, maybe, but drunk? Doubtful. Anyway, this post will involve the third incident of intoxication, which happened last Saturday, April 6, with a few of my closest friends from High School. We were at a friend's house, and I came late. There were just 5 of us, so, naturally, I had to make habol, since they've been drinking since earlier that night, and they've already downed a bottle of Antonov. I had to down a third or a fourth of the Bacardi they were drinking that night (approx. 3-4 full shots) to get even. Basically, I downed the rest of what they were supposed to drink. I'm quite proud to say that I still wasn't tipsy after drinking those. The bottle of GSM Blue was up next, and we downed that too, not without casualties. One of us locked himself in the bathroom, and painted the walls with bile. Another went to the couch to sleep. I, on the other hand, was already drunk. The rest of us kept on drinking. We finished half of the Tequila Rose we were drinking, when we stopped and called it a night.

Now, where is the confession? Sure, we drank and all, but where's the dirt? Shut the fuck up, I'm not done. (Why am I talking to myself? 'Cause no one's there to reply. No one reads this anyway, why wait for a fucking reply?)

Back to the story! In between drinks, when I was already drunk, I took my phone and dialed her number. By HER, I mean my.. uh, I don't know what to call whatever it is that we had then. Ugh. Whatever, HER, the girl I've fallen for 2 years ago, and with whom I had a child with. Kidding! HAHA! WHAT?! I'M TRYING TO LIGHTEN THE MOOD, ASSHOLE. So, yeah, I called her. Unfortunately, she was still up at that ungodly hour, and she picked up. Honestly, I no longer remember the actual words I used during the conversation, but I can still recall a few of the lines I used, like: "Grabe. I'm so drunk na talaga," "Had I courted you, would you have answered me?" and "Duuuude, I fucking LoveD you." I KNOW. I WAS SO STUPID. I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOTTEN INTO ME WHEN I DID THAT. IT WAS RASH, DUMB, AND STUPID. YES, I KNOW I SAID THAT ALREADY. THAT'S EMPHASIS. UUGH. MOVING ON...

The morning after, I found myself in the bottom bed of a double-deck bed in one of the rooms on the second floor of the house with a hangover. Back then, my mind was still processing everything that has happened the night before. I checked my phone, and suddenly, everything came back to me (Yeah, I don't really forget the stuff I do when I wake up the next day). I asked my friends about it, and they confirmed it. I was professing the love I HAD to the girl I was talking to on the phone. Yeah, and I thought that the hangover was the worst feeling anyone can have in the morning after a night of drinking. Apparently not.

And so, I texted her. After a string of messages expressing how sorry I was for the drunk call. My drunk texts to her that night were embarrassing as well. Ugh. Anyway, she replied, and we kinda talked about what had happened, and turned it into some kind of a joke. Unfortunately, for me, I don't know how to feel. I mean, did I give her some false hope that she would prolly hold on to? Or are we good? Were my words meaningless? I haven't replied to her relatively sweet text, and I'm afraid to do so. Should I text her right now? I no longer like her, in that way. I mean, I still like her as a friend, but I no longer like her in the way I used to.

Okay, that's it. I'll prolly post about my crushes, as I usually do. Then, them dumping me or having boyfriends, again, as I usually do. I don't know how to end this pointless entry, but