It was a royal fuckup. Friday night I drank too much with the gents. Got home and threw up in bed at 4:30 A.M. I tried to catch it all in my hands. It didn’t work. Then I sat there with chewed pizza and body temperature beer in my hands, still attempting damage control by telling her that it’s OK, it’s OK. It wasn’t OK.
When I came home I laid down and then got the spins. I went outside in my boxers and threw up in the grass so I wouldn’t bother her and to try to avert a puke-related disaster in the near future. It didn’t work. When I woke up she was packing. Maybe we need a break, she said, so you can figure out what you want.
Well, I don’t want to throw up into my hands, that’s for sure. I know this looks awful but it was a legitimate mistake. I was convinced I could ride the buzz without falling off. But let’s not go be single because of this one dumb thing. We’re both too hot to be single. We’d probably both fuck other people, and even if we didn’t we’d each imagine that the other one was out there fucking a battalion of sweaty models in a hall of mirrors, and it would drive us insane if we got back together.
She stayed but I would have understood if she didn’t. I’m too old for this. I’m a 30 year-old man. At my age my grandfather had two kids and was going to the Pentagon every morning trying to outsmart the Communists. I’m a man. I’m too old for this shit. I should know my limits. Well, I do know my limits, but on Friday night I chose to ignore them, and assumed that I’d be fine. Because while I’m a man I’m also a millennial in 2016. That means I have delusional superpowers and I think I can simply will myself to be 21 for the rest of my life. There are no 30 year-old millennials. Just 100 million 21 year-olds with crows feet.
-In my defense: It’s worth stating that I haven’t thrown up since 2014. About 600 or so days ago. Which makes my record 600-1 since then. As an expat in Korea that’s impressive. As anything, that’s impressive. Imagine a basketball team with that record. The only time that a 600-1 record is not impressive is if you’re a boyfriend.
-Oh God, the booze calories. I had some abs peeking through on Friday afternoon but they’re gone now.