So. I got drunk last night for the first time. And let me tell you, I had no idea what it was going to be like, and I'm pretty sure looking back I still don't know. Heaven knows I still can't type for shit, which is, safe to say, unsettling.
The total casualty count consisted of eight shots of pirate juice, and one Natti. Consumed in half an hour. I had never had alcohol before in any substantial quantity.
I. Was. Plastered.
So. Night goes on a little, I start feeling kinda warm and tingly all over. This was not in the manual, so I inquire to my roomate (who is the instigator in all of this). He proclaims that this is normal and to be expected. Soon ability for rational communication is lost, and fine, and most of gross, motor control is gone. It is apparently enjoyable.
I'm never drinking again.
Let me say that again.
This morning I awake, hangover free, but I think I found something worse. I hurt the man I love, and scared one of my best friends. I don't want to do that. I didn't physically hurt him, but I worried him to no end. He went to bed terribly upset and worried about me, and sad that he didn't get to talk to me. He never wants to drink. I now understand why. I smell of rum.
Mew, I know you'll never read this, but... I'm sorry.