I screwed up. Again.
Or at least, it feels like it.
I saw WhatsHisName last night. I know, I know. It was stupid and dumb and I shouldn't have and I said I wouldn't but I did.
I was out with a girlfriend (two for one margaritas? Yes, please. Top-shelf. Frozen. Extra shot of tequila. Thanks.) and one of his friends texted her that they where out. After awhile of them texting back and forth, WhatsHisName texted me and asked where I was. I told him, not thinking anything of it because I knew that they were probably across town and went back to my pool game (that I was losing tragically thanks to the table being cursed).
But sure enough, he showed up.
I won't bored you with all the sordid details. There was music, dancing, a few more games of pool, a few more drinks, and eventually last call (yeah...at 2am).
In the parking lot, he told me he had to be at work for 7am so we spend the next half an hour kissing each other goodbye.
See?!?!? We didn't do anything! I didn't even blackout this time so I remember everything that happened.
Why the fuck do I feel so damn guilty about this then?
Why can't I take a shot or make out with a guy without feeling so dirty about it?
Ya gotta love that pastor's daughter guilt.