What happens when you're a confused, emotional, little female and you have sex with your best male friend, thinking he got over his idealised love and sees the light? Well, I'll tell you. The first half a day you're absolutely happy, excited and delighted. You believe in love again; the world isn't that bad after all. There's this little voice in your head that won't stop saying, see, I told you it was possible! and you can't believe your luck falling into such perfection.

Until you find out, that he was drunk. That's when you feel cheap and meaningless.

You start grinding your memory cells away trying to dig the issues back up you'd clarified for yourself and forgotten about before the night progressed. Were the clarifications truly accounted for? Did you not misunderstand the words you got in reply to your questioning doubts? What happens next? Is the friendship lost? "Why?! This should be admissible for once, shouldn't it?" What? What did you say? How cruel! How horridly careless! So is the friendship lost? Impossible.

It's all too complicated to put down in words. I just don't know where to start and what should be said, I don't know which elements are essential and which don't have anything to do with the issue, and besides, my head's killing me. Of course most of the "yous" up there should be "mes" or "Is", you're smart enough to figure that out.

What's left now is just confusion, again. I don't know what I want, don't know what's best or what should be done... And every time I convince myself that what I want is what I expected from the night: more, I realise how abundantly impossible that is. In many ways. It's made clear to me though, that there really is no future with a particular ex, M., who tried so, so hard to get me back.

But the friendship has already proven more than once now to still be existent. I am very grateful for that, I'm proud the friendship was, and still is, strong enough to survive such bewilderment from both sides.

In other news, I'm on my way to the end of the school year! Yaay! The problem is though, I've been so busy, and now the end's coming nearer it feels like the end's already here, so why should I finish the last couple of (extremely important) things that are left to be done? Dangerous. Especially with headaches, violins and Diarylands luring me. Well headaches don't exactly lure... but they certainly dominate over things like important work needing to be done.

I can't get my words out. I mean, I can't get the piles of emotion out that are stuck inside, in a huge, big, tangly knot, wired through all thinkable holes and grips. That's why it's taken me about five days to write this. I'll be trying, I need to shake myself about to get things inside loose so I can reach down and pick all the pieces out one by one.

---

I feel so