the funk

I'm downtrodden and can't shake the blues off... save for the internship, I feel as if I'm entertaining a 2 year losing streak. I'm trying to save money for "the move" that I'm starting to believe is never going to happen, but constantly have bills flying at me from every angle, not to mention a strong fondness for 10 dollar belgian beer. (I feel like a troubled teen for admitting this, but jamie stewart has a lyric about his true love drinking herself into not being able to pay rent that has always yanked my heartstrings a little.) yesterday I went out with friends to a fashion show and had a perfectly swell time and then brought home a fellow wholphin intern and his roommates to hang out at the treehouse, one of the friends being a dead ringer for jude law save for his rather small stature. jon came down to grab a drink from the fridge and casually invited me upstairs for a slumber party and I declined, opting to enjoy the reindeer games with my company. as the whiskey flowed and the conversations turned slurry and the space between jude's doppleganger and I diminished, suddenly our hips were touching side by side as we leaned on a banister in the dark and the other boys started to drift down the hallway to talk bikeshop with derek. he touched my fishnets and turned to me and I could feel his breath on my neck so I balked, wordlessly slinking away into the kitchen, and then up the stairs to jon's room. I crawled into his bed, demanded that he spoon me and passed out without saying goodbye to my friend or jude, or maintaining any sort of dignity. I know he's dating the girl he cheated on me with, (constance, ugh) and that he lies to both of us through his teeth for sport. I know he probably screws us both in the same day without showering and goes to soundly to sleep at night perfectly content with existing on a higher plane of evil and disregard for others. I know that she secretly comes to the house when he knows I'm out, a roulette of sorts, keeping fingers crossed that I don't get off of work early. she probably plays with my cat and peers into my bedroom, boiling with curiosity, examining enemy territory with her beady little eyes. I know all this, and I'm aware that he treats me like shit 98 percent of the time, but this morning I was lapping up every iota of attention and smiling at tender cutesy kisses and letting him take pictures of me topless on his stupid iphone. (whatever.) why do I do this to myself? why didn't I suck face with jude and go to sleep in my own bedroom?
I laid in his bed this morning, internally conflicted yet still knowing the Right Thing To Do and that I was failing miserably at doing it, any of it. he smiled at me and invited me into the shower to which I stretched languidly and told him that there was little to no chance of my moving any time soon. he told me to have it my way, I replied that I usually do, and as he shut the door his phone chirped. it was constance. it was a flirty text. my stomach lurched. I felt my blood rushing to my face. I put my party dress back on and retreated down the stairs, feeling lost in my own house. when I saw him on his way out to the post office he'd asked me what was wrong, as my demeanor had clearly gone from relaxed to bristly and removed. I said nothing, and he called me a liar. of course I am. my favorite person to lie to is myself. a few months ago my cousin told me that jon would destroy me, but in a good way. I'm starting to doubt the benefits of being wrecked.