March 31, 2003 @ 2:03 a.m.
The eve of Leah's departure, and wondering about some stuff

I've had a bittersweet night.

My dear Leah is leaving, this Thursday, to travel around the country for two months with the truck driver boyfriend, whom I have grown to quite like. Tonight was her farewell bash, which was fun but ultimately left me feeling kind of hurty inside. I'm missing her already, and regretting that we haven't seen each other as much over the last couple of months. Tonight brought home everything I love about her (sometimes I've been left wondering over the past few months), right before she makes a brief exit from my day-to-day existence. I am the queen of the melodramatic goodbye.

I rocked up to her place after work, and everyone was already well on the path to drunkenness and debauchery. Being a P-plater and my own transport for the evening, I refused the bottles of wine being waved seductively at me and chose juice instead.

Most of the people present I wasn't too well acquainted with, as they are newer friends of hers that I haven't associated with much. I started off quietly, testing the waters. I tend to be very much an observer in social situations until I'm very comfortable with them. Fortunately, I loosened up and relaxed (contact drunk?) after the first half hour or so, and began to enjoy myself.

Stuart turned up later in the evening and was far quieter than usual, which seemed a little weird but I put it down to foreign situation. The banter got more raucous and pizza was ordered. At one point, Truck Driver Boyfriend took it upon himself to hassle Stuart about our non-existant cohabitation plans. I'd mentioned earlier in the night when he'd asked that we had no plans to move in together any time soon, and that Stuart didn't like talking about it. TDB found this strange and promised to "have a word" about it, which I thought was a joke, but obviously not. It was amusing, however - at least to me. Watching TDB fire a slurred barrage of questions and Stuart giving half answers. The logic that we should live together so we can have a house-warming party so that TDB has some social entertainment when he moves to Melbourne for good in a couple of months (he's from Sydney). Leah suggested we could move in with them, which I told her was a good idea, because she and I could eat our tofu and vegetables and have writing workshops together, and the guys could make homebrew and eat sausages and baked beans every night. It'd be great - for about a week. Not likely, not that it was a serious suggestion.

There was a wee massage orgy, then Stuart left early because his body clock was telling him it was an hour later than the real clock was saying thanks to the end of daylight savings time. I saw him off and then went back inside to continue the relatively subdued carousing. Leah and I had a chat in the kitchen and then retired to her bedroom to lie on her bed and D&M, something we haven't done for a long time and which I've missed without realising it. It was funny and fun and painful, because it started to sink in then how much I'm going to miss everything about her while she's gone. We talked about girly stuff, like love and relationships and adultery (purely theoretical) and writing porn. Back in the loungeroom, one of the girls was playing schitzo DJ, and kept playing snatches of songs before getting bored with them and switching to something else. We got the first ten seconds of "Lump", which sent Leah and me into bad karaoke mode, followed by my energetic air guitar, flat-on-back and leg-in-air style. I'm a rock god in the making, I tell you.

I was happysad, enjoying the moment but mourning Leah's emminent departure and wondering about Stu, because deep down under my snappish wit and reckless sluttism, I'm a fucking girly girl and starting to get to the "so where are we going with this?" point of proceedings. There's a lot of perspectives you could take on this. The one I'm working is that I want some sense of fucking solidification, to know that the year plus of my life he's been a part of thus far is going to continue to develop into something worthwhile. I can be stingy with emotion and I like to know that I'm making a good investment. Actually, that probably sounds overly harsh. I guess that what it boils down to in my head is that I want to know and feel that the person I've fallen arse-over-head for feels the same way. Which should be really fuckin' obvious, given the length of time we've been together, the fact that I tend to insist on high-emotion relationships with all the people in my life (passion or death), and the fact that admittedly, I am not always the easiest person to be around. I am probably quite unloveable at times, from the most objective standpoint. I'm the emotional rollercoaster your mother always warned you about. I never set out to be difficult or unkind but the fact remains that I'm human, so sometimes I am. I am always part of the problem.

Bluntly? It's a case of do you want me as much as I want you, and if not, let me know so I can start wallowing in alcohol. Thanks.

But I digress. We talked a good part of the night away and later we all ended up dancing in the loungeroom to Billy Joel (I don't even have the excuse of inebriation for that one). I bade them all goodnight at about 11:30 and drove home, listening to Aimee Mann up loud and sob-singing loudly and badly. Now it's approaching the three a.m. mark and I'm as restless as I am sleepless, cold and muddle-headed, feeling confused and sorry but also wondering if the mountain I'm pushing this rock up isn't actually a molehill, to horribly mangle a couple of perfectly innocent metaphors that were minding their own business and doing no harm to anybody.

I think I need sleep, and a clearer head, and definitely some perspective. I just don't like waiting, for anyone or anything, for fear of being left behind or made to look a naive fool. But perhaps I need to err on the side of caution lest my own impatience rears up and bites me on the arse.

Over and out of it.

Goodnight.

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