Bottom's Up!

At present, I am sitting at an the larger of the two international airports located in the Pacific Northwest. In an airport bar. And I am hammered.

M3 was supposed to pick me up at the airport at 2:30pm but his meeting started an hour later than anticipated. And then some guy wanted to talk to him afterwards. To pass the time, he advised me to drink heavily.

Its now 4:15pm.

I've taken his suggestion to heart.

(God damn, I am drunk.)

Tonight M3 will meet one of my very bestest (old) friends. And one of my very bestest (newer) friends.

And at some point between when my next drink is served at the "Airport Destination Lounge" and when we depart to meet the aforementioned bestest old friend, I will admit to M3, to his face even, how much I like him. And how sorry I am that my retardation -- caused no doubt by the debacle that was Dating K and my general garden-variety inability to accept that when something's good, one is well-advised to shut the fuck up inside one's head and cease questioning every single solitatry detal about said something and just endeavor to enjoy it -- is standing in the way of something fucking unbelievable.

Because I adore this man.

And I am hammered.