So, I survived the night...more or less. The whole thing was really all right for me, in that there was no real awkwardness or ickyness or hostility or anything like that. I laughed a lot, I met some cool people, had yummy drinks, got to celebrate my friend's b-day, and was feeling good about myself in general.

Ladies, you know about this, right? Some days are just Ugly Days, where it doesn't matter in reality whether or not you're looking good; you just feel ugly. And then some days are Hot Days, where you know your mojo is workin' and all the boys flock to you. Right? Right! And yesterday was a Hot Day for me -- thank the gods!

Anyway, the only tough thing about last night is that I did see Ex-Friend. He actually came over to me and hugged me, which I have to admit kinda took me by surprise. I sort of half-rose from my bar booth seat and half-assedly hugged him back, but greeted him with a dazzling smile, trying to convey a sense of, hey, no harm, no foul here! I think it worked.

The hard part, tho', is twofold:

(1) I got a really strong feeling that he wanted to talk to me, that he wanted to be funny with me, to make me laugh, to connect somehow. He kept trying to bring up subjects and debates that, given the others sitting in my bar booth, only really the two of us could engage in (regarding very specific types of music and artists, etc.). But he was so hammered that I think he himself found his efforts to be lacking, and I didn't help matters by allowing myself to be pulled away from his commentary all too easily. It made me feel sort of rude, and in the past I would've tried to find him and give him an opportunity to complete his thought, but I kept reminding myself that this person makes me feel like shit most of the time, so let it go.

(2) Seeing EF made me really, really, really, really miss having him in my life. Last night after I left, and all day today, I've had this ache where I keep trying to devise excuses to text him or e-mail him or even call him, just to try to cling to some small thread of what we once were. He was my best friend. And now, seeing him again, well...I just wish we were good for each other. But, if there's one thing I've learned in my long-but-still-young years, it's that loving someone, be it family, friend, or lover, does not automatically mean you're good for each other. In fact, it's the very people you love the most that can deal you the highest amount of damage. (Just ask any videogame fanatic; they'll tell ya.)

So, I survived, but now I'm sad again, not 'cause I had a bad time, but because I had a good time, and wish I could have it again.

Askin' a lot, eh?

*sigh*

I don't know anymore. When is it the right thing to stick to your guns, and when should you just let go of your Word and give someone another chance? I don't know anymore. (Wait, I already said that. Nevermind.)