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it’s raining water, and drinking glasses

Crazy roommate decided to go out drinking after crying as we watched the baseball game. She complained about how she wants to change, how she doesn’t want to be mean or judgemental. She said she wants to be nicer, or at least be able to fake being nice more effectively. She said she is always sad, and that makes her want to drink, which she knows doesn’t help. I get confused when people complain about things they can change but choose not to.

I wasn’t feeling very well. I was quite tired and had a headache, I must be getting a cold. I went to bed around 9:30, even forsaking the end of the Phils game. I woke up at 2 am for some reason, and then my guard went up because I knew what would probably happen. I must be psychic since around 2:30 a very drunk roommate came in without knocking. Lucky for me she was totally shitfaced and stumbling around making noise!

She started by saying how much she wants me, how she loves how I feel. I told her I still had a headache and didn’t feel well. She bitched a bit then left to go vomit in the bathroom and knock stuff over. She made quite a mess in the bathroom, I’m lucky we have two.

After returning and crying about how she just wants me to want her (this is ironic, since she broke up with me) she kept talking. More crying, more senseless chatter about how I don’t care and how she wants me, more throwing up. I got her a glass of water, since on the occasions when I get sick all I crave is nice cool water to clean the taste out. She didn’t take the water, but then went to the kitchen. Then came the highlight of the night.

She returns with a nice big glass of water and attempts to throw it out my window. There is a screen which cleverly deflects the glass, spraying water everywhere. Then the screen gets opened and she tosses the glass out. Fucking Epic! At this point I can’t help but laugh inside at the absurdity of the situation: a retarded unstable drunk is failing at even the simple task of throwing stuff out the window. Better yet, somehow this drunk thinks we can have a meaningful conversation, and maybe some sort of relationship. I’m a fool for letting myself get wrapped up in this. I somehow thing that with enough love and good cooking people will see what kind of fucking idiots they are and try to change themselves. FAIL. Occasionally I question if I have changed as much as I think I have, but that’s just my own insecurities speaking and not reality.

I asked her what she thought that would accomplish, and she said it’s the only way she can get me to pay attention. This caused me to snap. I began actually telling her how I feel about the whole situation, which engendered no response to my surprise, since she always has shit to say even if it makes no sense. She began to calm down and after some repeated gibberish she finally went to sleep.

As I lay in bed I tried to clear my head. It’s senseless to attempt to apply logic to a drunk. I think alcohol short circuits those awesome channels in our brain that we have developed to systematically categorize our existence. When those levies break all you can do is try to get to higher ground, try not to drown in the flood of subconscious. It’s hard to feel such pain from someone you loved and to know you can do nothing.

Tags: Roommate

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