I think my medication is making me a little more ill than usual. My stomach is tied in tight little knots and my insides are shaking. I can feel it. I drank last night. I called my good friend. I may have said stupid things. I don't really care. If I can't be stupid to a good friend, who can I be an idiot with? The rest of the night is a fog. A complete blur. I was completely intoxicated. I felt good. Better than usual. I feel like a zombie today. She says I have a spark in my eye, a brightness that hasn't been there for awhile. Well like I said I got drunk. Of course I have a spark. See. SPARK. I'm not sure what I plan on doing this weekend. I know I have to read and do some work for my classes. Classes. I did run into an old 'almost' a friend. Keith. He's cool in a sarcastic snot head way. He's cute too, so maybe that helps. He has a girlfriend. I also think he has a drug problem, but when it all comes together none of it really matters. I have yet to find my one match. The one person who will be able to understand my depressing rants. I won't say soul mate, because I don't believe in those. I believe in an equal match for everyone. Perfect partner: Cocky. Arrogant. Intelligent. Smart ass. Nice ass. Compassionate some times, (no whimps though). Likes to party. Likes to chill. Knows how to lie. Knows how to be honest. Likes loud music. Likes loudness. Knows when to shut up. Knows when to yell. Can handle being called a bitch. Can handle calling me a bitch. Good body. Even better mind. Likes the unusual. Hates conformity. Knows what he wants in life and won't let anyone, not even me, get in his way. Weird. Great sense of humor. Knows when to make love. Knows when to fuck. These are a few of my requirements for the person I will love. Sounds ridiculous to some, but I want someone who can take all that I have to give, because I sure know how to give someone hell. Some day we'll meet I guess. Maybe at some party or in the market. Maybe. If not, screw you for not being at the right place at the right time. I've been thinking about all the guys I've ever met in my life. I have an impressive list. I wonder too what I was lacking for these guys not to love me. They seemed to like me just fine. But no love. No moving forward. Maybe it's me that stops the romance. I'm not comfortable with letting people in. I'm afraid they can't survive my world. My mind. My horrible emotions. I guess it is me. If you take all of the guys I've met and take one thing from each of them, you would have the perfect guy for me. Unfortunately, none of this is possible. I find myself still thinking about Vadim. I worked with him. We worked well together. He had this thing for Melissa. Melissa was an ultra bright blonde who reminded me of one of those 'cool' girls. She often called Vadim, Ricky Martin. I often reminded her that Vadim was Russian or something, not hispanic. She laughed. Who cared? I was jealous of her because he liked her so much. I joked with him. We laughed a lot, but no spark of interest I guess. What I hate is that I can't stop thinking about him. It hurts more than it helps. I fall in love at least once a week. Always with someone different. I'm a cronic crusher. It will fade I guess. Eventually. All my feelings for people usually do. I let people go like most change socks. People begin to bore me eventually. Or maybe I reject them first. Who knows? Who cares? Not me. Not anymore. I'm done.