I went to New York to see Buddy on New Years, but I wasn't feeling up to our usual brand of fun.
I haven't told him exactly why, but I was in a bad mood because of the night before. I had gone out drinking with Raine and we ran into of all people Cyndi... and Leo.
I got a chill up my spine. Cyndi had seemed much warmer in the past few weeks, chalked up to finding a new boyfriend... I just hadn't realized it was her old boyfriend, the guy I had until recently been banging without commitment.
The sight of the two of them together made me... irrationally angry. I was just coming off my period and a ton of holiday stress and the sudden thought that Leo was so okay breaking it off with me because he was back to her -- the woman he would complain about more often than talking about anything else, because he knew I agreed -- nauseated me. The idea that he may have been screwing her before we "ended" hurt me even more.
I didn't think they'd noticed us in the bar, so I was just about over it when I stepped out to the snowy parking lot to find her waiting there for me in the cold.
I guess she had found out, because she wasn't so sweet to me as she had been recently. Which was fine, since I knew she was a big faker anyway.
I tried to be the bigger person, brush her off and go home, but she kept throwing words. She said I was a slut for going after her man. Said I was a bitch because she used to consider em a friend, but she realized how two-faced I was (excuse me?!) But the straw that broke the camel's back was when she began slinging the d-word... a derogatory term for a homosexual female I won't repeat here.
That got my temper up like it's never been. I'm used to crying, used to being. sad and feeling like things are pointless, but I haven't been mad in years. I walked back over to her and shoved her, demanded she take it back. My voice must've gotten really shrill as I tried to put so anger into it. She just repeated her taunt. I shoved her again. She slapped me. Wrong move.
I had a big brother, and I used to get bullied at school. I know a thing or two about fighting, although I've never actually had to fight anyone (just kinda meekly defend myself or roughhouse.) I put her in a headlock. She began to claw and scrape at me and pull my hair, until I let go. She tripped me but I got up in time to scuffle some more with her, and at some point I may have punched her lightly in the boob. She responded by kicking me right in the crotch. And I might not have balls anywhere, but getting hit someplace personal hurts.
Now I was mad. And in pain. And emotionally off the rails. And I just socked her right in the face.
That sent her down for a second. I can tell you she'd never been hit in the face before, and since she models, it must've really shaken her. She just sat there, holding her jaw. Hell, the next day at work her lip was swollen. But there, she was sitting there looking at me, wondering how all this got so far out of hand. And when I unclenched my fist, I had to stop and realized I'd just punched a girl in the face. And whether I'm a girl or not, it felt wrong.
I left work early the next day and took a bus to New York. The whole ride, all I could think about was why things got so far out of hand. Was I mad at Leo for going back to her? Mad at myself for caring? Like I said, the very sight of them being back together unsettled me, but the moment that broke me was when she started laying into me and Raine, and the messed up thing was, a year earlier, I had kissed Raine on New Years and not thought twice about it (well, maybe I had thought twice) and now the insinuation that she and I were "together" was somehow an insult to me? What the fuck has become of me? I hated that I had that reaction.
It made me distant and cold to Buddy when I got to his place. We went to a little gathering with an acquaintance of his, and I just kinda faded into the background like old times. Back at the hotel, when he called me on it, instead of explaining myself to him, I just gave him something I figured I owed him. A little attention... if you know what I mean.
Maybe it was for him, maybe it was for me, maybe it was for show. Maybe it was for something to talk about on this blog.
Either way, it didn't feel great when I woke up with his sticky, bitter taste in my mouth (next time: toothpaste AND mouthwash) still emotionally sore (and a little physically sore) from the past few days.
When I got back to Philly, I handed in my two weeks notice. I had made up my mind, but now seemed like as good a time as any.
As to what I'm doing next... I have some thoughts, but I'll let you know when it happens.