Diane...

I'm standing in the middle of a teeter-totter, sort of halfway in between feeling REALLY low and REALLY high.

I want to go out and socialize, meet all of Matt and Ian's friends from Idaho, make some new friends maybe, have another drink, and spend the night laughing and screwing around. On the other hand, I feel like disappearing into a little hole.

Parties have always been a little difficult for me. I'm always shy until I have a drink or two, and then I either have a lot of fun, or get even more shy and sit in a corner moping. I'm trying VERY hard not to mope. I keep telling myself it's NOT so hard to meet new people, and it's not so hard to just walk up to somebody and introduce myself. I'm an expert at stupid small-talk. It seems fake, but I'm good at it. This is a great opportunity for me to make some new friends! So get your silly ass out there, Carolyn, and fucking talk to people!

Easier said than done.

I've had exactly one glass of wine, and one sip of somebody's screwdriver. I'm obviously not sober anymore, and I'm feeling quite awkward about Ian's presence. Am just thinking about the last time he saw me drunk. Maybe I'm imagining it, but there seems to be so much tension between us. Diane, I confessed too much to him in Binghamton. I got too drunk and couldn't shut up. I fell too hard, too fast. I loved him too much. I didn't think before I kissed him. I overstepped some boundaries. I'll never be able to look at him, ever again, with the innocence of "just friends."

I no longer have any idea how to relate to him. I'm drunk enough so that I cannot possibly deny I have feelings for him, but I'm sober enough to be neurotic that those feelings are showing. I've become kind of scared of being drunk. The last time, I got drunk quite purposefully, thinking, gee, I really ought to take this opportunity to completely lower my inhibitions and tell Ian that I love him... I don't know what I was thinking. Why didn't I think about what would happen a few months later when I found myself here, with him, with all his friends around, with Brownyn here? Was I thinking that he'd forget everything? That I would forget everything? He's done a pretty good job of pretending nothing significant really happened, which is undoubtedly a good thing, as it's none of anybod else's busines, and nobody would benefit from any more information than they already have... But it still sort of hurts, even though it shouldn't.

Last night, Kathleen (who is NOT the Goddess of Tact), asked me (quietly, to her credit), "do you feel weird being around Bronwyn after what happened with you and Ian?" I felt like grabbing her, hauling her off to someplace a little more private than Matt's roof (where we were watching a meteor shower), and just pouring everything out. I suppose it was wise of me not to have done that. I don't really know Kathleen, and I don't know how trustworthy she is, or how much I could really confide. I sort of hung my head and said, "a little." Kathleen said, "Please don't worry about it... Bronwyn likes you a lot. Everybody's happy you're here." I wonder how Kathleen came by her information. I wonder how much information she's come by. It doesn't matter, I guess.

It's not Bronwyn I feel weird about. I mean, yes, that too, a little, but... Now what about Ian? Two months ago, I slept with my arms around him. I just opened up the floodgates, let out three years of dammed-up feelings, and to hell with the consequences. I wanted to know, for sure, if I was in love with him. I wanted to know what would happen if I did all the things I'd been secretly thinking about when we were in Santa Fe. Now I know, and there's no way I can NOT know. It's pretty clear that sleeping with my arms around Ian tonight would be quite inappropriate, but I can't help sort of thinking about it, and it's not like I wouldn't be completely willing. It's that willingness that's bothering me. I've already probably made a complete jackass of myself to somebody who's been a wonderful friend for a very long time. Thanks to a glass of wine and a sip of screwdriver, I feel like I'm living out that dream of standing naked in a high school corridor, in front of my biggest crush and all his friends. Here you go, Sand Point High School: Carolyn Rauscher, exposed before you, in love with your classmate and the bearer of Binghamtonian-style drama at your party. THIS is why I'd like to crawl into a little hole for the remainder of this party. I obviously haven't got much self-control when I'm drunk, but I don't think I'm stupid enough to make any MORE of an ass of myself... I'd like to just be very, very quiet, and hope nobody notices me.

But you know, Diane, I'm not willing to be a wallflower tonight. I'd regret it once I'm back in Binghamton, and I'm not willing to be a hostess to any more regrets. I'm going to the kitchen now, and I'm going to pour another glass of wine. I'm going to sip it very slowly, and I'm going to join the rest of the crowd in the backyard. I'm going to find one or two people who seem interesting, and I'm going to start babbling about David Lynch in order to break some ice. I'm going to hope for the best. And maybe I'll just pretend not to notice Ian. Hopefully, he'll be preoccupied with his friends, and not notice me either.