this sucks

Unbelievably, the tantalizing combination of handcuffs and (Maker’s) Mark was not enough to keep my recently visiting friends from returning to the various professional and academic obligations awaiting them in their real lives. Much to my dismay, the last of these remarkable women took off on Tuesday, leaving me to confront my sometimes monotonous reality on my own the following morning. Awesome.

I’ve been suffering from a mild case of post-party depression in the wake of my friends’ departures, as I come to terms with their absence and readjust to a life that functions relatively well without the luxury of regular spooning sessions. It hasn’t been an easy transition. I’d forgotten how nice it is to have my personal space bubble infiltrated by pretty girls on a consistent basis, but now that I’ve been effectively reminded of this fact, I’m struggling to reacclimate to an often (and sadly) hug-less existence.

And while torturing my cat with unwelcome and mostly overbearing affection can sometimes comfort me in my solitude, it certainly can’t compare to the real thing.

Next year, the handcuffs come out for sure. Because—as Leah so eloquently emailed—this sucks.