last night was horrible. i was exhausted, and hungover, and had to serve all of these fucking austrians their beer, when all that i wanted to do was go have a good cry, somewhere warm, preferably in north america.

is this really it? is this really the end? "the slow process of goodbye", done? i don't know how to be without him, but for some reason, every single thing i've done since he's been gone has been designed to make it impossible for me to back out. i've told far too many people about saturday night (not to mention saturday night). i told r. about both our relationship problems and saturday night, which is worse because i am also interested in him. and i'm sitting here at home, in the living room that reeks of cigarette smoke even though c. specifically asked me not to smoke in here, sitting on a text message from a customer at the bar last night, the first one who has ever been given my phone number, the first one one of the only ones i have ever even considered giving my number.

i'm just so fucking lost.

after an exchange about how we were both tired from last night (he was one of the last customers at the bar at 5 am), he offered to talk me to sleep-- which is exactly what i want: to have someone stroke my hair, and rub my back, and keep me warm, and let me sleep. which is what i had; or, which is what i used to have.

i'm not naive enough to think that guys who pick up their waitresses really want to "watch" them sleep.

i don't know what i'm going to do next.