That weekend, a week after Vegas, I was scheduled to go home to Redding for Joanna's dad's surprise birthday party and he was scheduled to go to Poland. With the help of a little something I like to call "getting wasted with old friends," I found myself in Joanna's dad's office, falling off a chair, succumbing to what I am trademarking as "Crazy Girl Syndrome," trying to write the following series of emails:
Part Seven:
7/13 Morgan to Johnny
As for all the moving around, my former therapist (who...tangent...was an amazing person and the only one I told when shit went down when I first went to college and the first person I called when I found out I'd been cheated on and the one I called when I got back with the person I cheated on and he's the one I would call right now to talk me out of this insanity if he were alive) would tell you it's because I haven't had a home and have been looking for one since I was 12 years old when I moved across the country to get away from my parent's divorce. I'd like to think there's some truth to that since I shelled out so much money for him to tell me so, but also, I'm going to have to settle down someday in the near future and need to know that I have lived in interesting places before I end up in some podunk town. Or maybe it's a defense against settling into a life of cookie cutter houses and strip malls; I won't settle for that if I know there's something better.
It's Friday night now and I'm in Redding and completely and utterly wasted. There is a girl speaking Italian to my right and my friends are in the pool completely and utterly naked, which is where I was before I decided, Hey! I should email John! A horrible decision. Anyway.
I can't stop thinking about how glad I am that I didn't sleep with you because now I am forced to imagine what it would have been like based on your kisses alone, which...is good. Whatever you did to me, my body's been desperately requiring on a regular basis and it's deliciously frustrating. I can't even tell you what state I've been in because it's not something I've felt before, the need for something I don't know. I wish you were here now, but I'm glad you aren't because you wouldn't know what to do with yourself afterwards. I can't get into it right now because...typing is hard enough right now without the temptation of detail.
7/14 Morgan to Johnny
Can't tell if pictures were actually attached.....vdrunk.....v fun weekend, missed my flight, spent an hour crying in the shower, and now...i think it's your word, obliterated. i need a life that's more than this, but it's okay for right now. i'd come visit if you asked me to, but i'm having fun anyway if you don't.
7/15 Morgan to Johnny
I have no recollection whatsoever of whatever I sent you on Friday night, and I think that is definitely for the best and I hope you just deleted those and wrote them off as me being...drunk. And the reason I got SO fucking drunk--oh god, Saturday was painful--is because I decided to get over this and to sabotage it, because I am a girl and am inherently compulsive and insane and driven by a force much greater than reason. If you never ever respond again, I completely understand.
I hope Poland was as much fun as this weekend apparently was for me and that you have completely forgotten about me.
Morgan
Ouch.