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11:46 p.m. - February 15, 2005
Moments in which I feel unconditionally loved are rare, slipping through these denial nets with subterfuge. Tonight was hours and hours of feeling warm and accepted and me not just by one but by two people. There is no place in my storeroom for this unexpected box.

I laughed a lot tonight; I opened up and spilled a few things that I've never shared with anybody before; I showed - lived? - that part of me kept carefully under wraps and it felt wonderful. I drank a lot of wine and when we went to the Irish pub I had some more to drink but tonight wasn't the warm, tingly barroom intimacy; just that I was out drinking with them implies comfort and intimacy. And when they said dinner was on them I didn't protest, accepted it and it felt good. Good. Since I began earning my own money at 16 nobody has paid for me. Ever. Maybe people don't think about these things but I catalogues firsts, nevers, old hats and - I suppose this is ridiculous, as if having some wine at somebody's house before going to dinner is a big deal. But it is. I don't drink because I worry I'll somehow lose control and loss of control = potentially bad things so I avoid it but tonight there was no worry at all, just comfort. As if I granted myself temporary unconditional okay-in-my-skinness. Most telling: They were concerned about me driving home and offered me a place to crash. And I considered it, then declined, but I considered the idea. It just felt good.

It feels good to have people just - I don't know, like you despite everything.


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