Autonomy

10:03, 28 April 2003

OK, so I thought a lot about the alcohol dependency thing and I made a plan. I'm going to talk to Piyush about it tonight when we study together. I'm going to tell him that I am sad that he has so much faith in me that I don't need to drink and can stop, but I don't have believe that I can or should. He tries and tries to help me and I don't cooperate.

I need to be in on the effort. The will has to come from me, I know that about myself. The way it's going now, he sets my drink limit and I, rebellious child that I am, do all I can to convince him to let me break it. And to break his own drink limits. It must be so annoying. Trying to make me do something is destined to fail.

What he has to do is let me set the limit myself. He can't try to enforce it with power; he must remind me of my own promise. Because if he presents it as a promise I've made, as a faith he has in me, I might respond better because it will make me sad to not live up to a promise.

I don't want to quit drinking. It's too fucking easy to quit things cold-turkey, at least for me. That's just the white to the corresponding black, and we all know I'm good at extremes. That's why all my banners for this diary are in black and white. My brain is grey, my wardrobe is grey, my skies can be grey but my behaviour is decidedly not grey.

The worst part is: I don't even need to drink around him. I don't need the drink to feel comfortable with him, I don't need the drink to be witty or fun or cool. I don't need the drink to kiss him because it's so fabulous all the time. I like the drink because it makes me laugh a little more loosely. But that's just not enough to counter the disappointment he feels--I feel--and the fear that he won't like me anymore because of this weakness.

Speaking of kissing, can I just mention my one anxiety about kissing Piyush? (Are you ready for this one?) I worry that he doesn't want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss him. I'm dying to touch him all the time. In the car I'm dying to take his hand as he drives. I sometimes do, and he holds it and I smile. When we study I'm dying to have our legs touch under the table. They do, sometimes, our bare feet touching or our legs resting on each other and I smile, inside. When we take cigarette breaks I'm dying to lean up against him and have him hug me. I do and he does sometimes and I breathe in his smell and I smile. When we sit on his couch, I'm dying to cuddle up to him and have his arm around me and lean on him. I do sometimes, but not enough. And when we are alone, I'm dying to kiss him and I do sometimes and I wish it could go on forever.

Bionic

08:16, 28 April 2003

So yesterday, after all my whining about being sick... I got better. So bah! to all you haters who say Echinacea doesn't work. Or maybe I'm just bionic like that, which wouldn't surprise me given how I never get sick and don't get hungover.

Yeah, I didn't want to go to the library, but Piyush convinced me to go. Not like he couldn't convince me to traipse through the gates of hell... wait. That's probably me leading the charge down there! Hahaha. I didn't feel like he was in a good mood: you know how I have that supersensor superpower for detecting the slightest changes in mood (sometimes, like an overly sensitive radar scanner, it detects signals that aren't there). He was tired so I made him laugh.

At the libes, I was pounding out the work. Superconcentrated thanks to a little low-power diet pill action. Manbir was totally distracting, albeit hilarious. He stripped and ran around the library in his boxers. Then, reclothed, he climbed up a bookcase and lay on top of it. These are 8-foot high library bookshelves here. It was totally insane. Piyush and I were pissing our pants. The rest of the library was not amused.

Finally, after 6 hours of studying (minus an hour of breaks and The Manbir Show) we went to Piyush's for Chinese take-away and drinks. Piyush got pissed (well, I'm not sure how pissed, really... more like disappointed) at me because he set the limit at 3 drinks and then I kept begging for more. He told me that I had such a bad reputation, at the very least among the LLMs, as a practical alcoholic and he didn't want me to be so dependent on alcohol, because he cares for me. I know he's right. I do.

Now I feel awful because he was mad at me and also because maybe I am a bit too dependent. It's seriously the bipolarity again: no drinks or lots of drinks... why can't I stop at two? Sigh. I really must practice. He tries and tries to help me but I try and try to get him to give me more drinks. I really will try next time. It's not like I need the alcohol to have fun with him, or to kiss him... so why do I want it? or want more of it all the time? Maybe I should quit drinking until I go back to New York in a couple of weeks. Well, of course Limes, I'll go drinking with you. But Piyush doesn't have to know about that one!

Last night we were talking about graduation. He's here until the end of June. I convinced my Mom to let me go to NYC with him for a quick trip in June (for his brother's birthday). He wants me to go travelling in Europe with him in July. You know I'll drop everything and laugh in the face of my $0 bank balance to go with him.

Gosh, I'm really really mad at myself for making Piyush disappointed in me. What if I diminish in his estimation because of this? I hope I haven't done irreparable damage already. Today is just a day of general disappointment. I hate when people are disappointed in me or mad at me. It makes me feel like they'll never like me again, no matter how small the indescretion that caused their negative feeling towards me. Do you think he thinks I have a problem? Do you think I have a problem? Do you think he likes me less because of it? I will now consult the oracle: Is Piyush's estimation of me still positive? "The wooden bucket raises up the water that nourishes the town. The capital city may change but the Well is always the same. The Source says Yes, it will work out Well." Sing it, Lawd.