Today was Kate’s bridal shower. What the fuck? There’s a first time for everything, I guess.

As one of Kate’s six bridesmaids, I had to be at the venue early to help her set up, which meant waking up early as well. Getting into the shower, I caught a glimpse of my naked body in the mirror. In that moment, I realized I am now looking more like the Octo-Mom than a 26-year-old male. I think I saw a foot kicking through my stomach.

Mom drove me to the venue, then returned to Casa Z so she could get herself ready to join us later. On our way, I learned that there was a horrible shooting at Pulse nightclub in Orlando last night. A terrorist attack. Absolutely horrible. When I lived in Florida, I used to go to Pulse all the time. I’d park my car around the corner from the club, and RX and I used to make out in my backseat before going inside. I have so many great memories of Pulse.

Once at the bridal shower, we set up shop as per Kate’s instructions. In the 10+ years that I’ve known Kate, this morning was the second time I’d ever been scared of her. The first time was yesterday, when she got mad at her sister for something. Ah, weddings. The shower was fantastic, though. It must have cost at least $10,000, but everything was great. Super excessive, but absolutely gorgeous. Kate is a class act.

Early on in the day’s festivities, Natasha and I made the decision that we were going to drink our asses off. It seemed like a good idea in theory, until I remembered that each of the bridesmaids were responsible for hosting one of the group games. Lucky me, I had the task of hosting the final activity of the day. After three hours of drinking, I made an absolute ass of myself. Rule of thumb: don’t give me a microphone. I ended up trying to joke with a Nonna like some sort of bridal shower stand-up comic, only to have another older Italian lady tell me not to bother – Nonna didn’t speak English. Tough crowd.

Our server at the shower looked like she was fresh out of junior high. It didn’t take much for Natasha and I to convince this pre-teen that it was a good idea to leave a bottle of white wine between us. It didn’t take much to convince her a second, third, or fourth time, either. I’m not sure how, but Natasha and I actually kept it together pretty well. Maybe it was because we took a Xanax during dessert.

Seeing an old German grandma dance her ass off to Shania Twain’s “Man! I Feel Like a Woman” was probably one of the highlights of my day. It was right up there with Adam’s grandma saying that she wished Kate and her grandson lots of, “SEX! SEX! SEX!” followed by me telling that same grandma to give me back my sunglasses. I was fucked up, and needed to cover my eyes.

After things had wrapped up, Mom drove me home to Casa Z with her. I am convinced my parents like me more when I’m drunk. It’s because I finally let loose and have fun with them. I’m so fucking uptight all the time, so I’m sure it’s a refreshing change. Mom and I rocked out to a ton of 70’s music the entire drive home. It was a lot of fun.

I told Natasha that she could hitch a ride with us downtown when Mom drove me back to the Witch Cave, so she was dropped off at Casa Z soon after I got home. We smoked weed in my bedroom. After that, Natasha wanted a cocktail. I whipped up some vodka drinks, and we sat out by the pool with Mom for at least an hour, taking about life.

Natasha isn’t that close with her mom. As such, I feel like when she’s around my mom, she always has a lot of questions to ask. Eventually, our conversation turned to mother-in-law’s. Mom told the story of her two miscarriages. I cried when she talked about the one she had while in Florida at Granny and Grandpa’s old house. I never knew how bad that situation was. I had also never realized how horrible Dad’s mom treated her. Not just during the miscarriage, but in general. Granny was truly awful to Mom.

Listening to Mom tell her miscarriage story, the whole thing hit me really hard. I want Mom to write about those things. I don’t want her to leave this earth without sharing her story. Hearing about how Granny mistreated her for all those years, it makes you realize why a person becomes who they are today. You gain a greater understanding. Empathy. When you are constantly belittled by everyone around you, obviously you are going to develop issues with confidence over time. I need to be more sensitive to those things. Mom hasn’t had it easy.

I sat by the pool with Mom and Natasha, crying silently behind my sunglasses. In that moment, all I could do was think about how proud I was to have such a strong mother. Someone who has always chosen to be positive in her life. To be the bigger person, despite being dumped on by everyone. I love you so much, Mom. You inspire me every day to be a better person. I’m sorry that I haven’t given you the affection, respect, and appreciation that you so clearly deserve.

When the stories – and vodka – were finished, we drove downtown and dropped Natasha off at her condo along the way. I couldn’t find my iPod, so I used my iPhone for music in the car, which meant no photos or video recording. How barbaric. For some reason, the disco music we were playing was intensely loud. Between the three of us, nobody couldn’t figure out how to turn the volume down, so we had this insane dance party while people on the streets of Toronto looked at us like we were coked out of our minds.

Back at the Witch Cave, I was really fucked up. I’d tossed back two large drinks at Casa Z, on top of the wine, champagne, and Xanax I had earlier at Kate’s bridal shower. I sat on my couch, completely zoned-out, and went to town on the peri-peri chicken that Mom had sent me home with. After a disturbingly long time of “listening” to people in my apartment, I came to the jarring realization that nobody was talking to me, nor was anybody actually in my apartment.

I shook the extra voices out of my head, and decided that it was time for bed. I was not in the mood to deal with my suitcase full of fresh Casa Z laundry, so I got naked, brushed my teeth, washed my face, grabbed a blanket, and jumped on my bare mattress.

Goodnight xo

Love to all.

Love you much.

Goodnight xo

I’m going to watch my Snapchat story now.

Goodnight xo

Oh, hell. Wait a minute. I need to put this in. It’s important.

Early in the day, RX texted me. He was asking if I had heard about the Orlando shooting at Pulse nightclub. As usual, we exchanged a few messages, and then I never heard from him again. RX left me on read. Total radio silence, which happens every time we text.

I don’t know if it was the alcohol, the Xanax, or if I just don’t care anymore, but by the end of the day, I’d reached my limit with RX. Especially after the way he iced me with that Clubhouse Pride invitation earlier. While lying wasted in bed, I ended up calling RX out on his bullshit, and it turned into a full-on war.

Here’s the iMessage exchange:

Kurt: “Great talking with you.”

RX: “I was working all day and just got home now.”

Kurt: “Okay. Sorry, to be honest, you do it a lot.”

RX: “Do what a lot?”

Kurt: “Initiate a conversation, and then leave me hanging.”

RX: “I apologize for not always being glued to my phone. Next time I initiate a conversation I will be sure to set aside ample time to fulfill it in its entirety.”

Kurt: “Don’t be a dick.”

RX: “Well. Don’t be passive aggressive like that then. That was really uncalled for.”

Kurt: “You do it all the time! Do you realize what a big deal it was for me to invite you to a work function? It might sound so stupid to you, but it was a really big step for me – and what I thought was a good gesture for an ex – to invite you. And then you ignored me.”

RX: “Ignoring someone is intentional. I did not ignore it, I responded. To which I even apologized. I’ve been incredibly busy and very sick the past week. To think it was intentional, or only think about how things affect you, or how big of a deal things are to you without acknowledging the other person’s perspective or what they had going on is very self-centered. You completely ignored the fact that I did respond and apologized and explained my circumstance, and still harbored a resentment for it and that isn’t fair at all.”

Kurt: “Thank you for letting me know.”

When RX sent that last message, I was just so over the whole thing. I had drafted a full response, but my mini-essay gave me flashbacks of when RX and I would email those stupidly long letters to one another after we broke up. I didn’t want that type of exchange on record again. I was also pretty fucked-up, and I didn’t want to run my mouth without making concise remarks. I decided to end the exchange with my thank-you.

I’m not saying RX’s response was wrong. The guy made valid points, and I know that sometimes I can be a bit self-centered. However, I stand by what I said. Ignoring my Clubhouse invitation was fucking rude of him. As if, over the course of two or three days, RX didn’t have 30 seconds while taking a goddamn shit to respond to me? Go fuck yourself.

And me? Self-centered? Okay. Maybe. Probably. But, when was the last time RX asked me how my fucking day was going? It’s always me asking how RX is, or how his work is, or how anything is – even inviting him to that party. RX doesn’t even know that I’m working at The Clubhouse now, because he would never think to ask. But, I’m the one that’s self-involved. Okay. Sure. It’s all so fucking stupid.

RX is right about another thing, too. I do harbor a lot of resentment. But, it’s towards RX. I’m better than I used to be, but the pain is still there. Given our track record, I doubt this is the last I’ll be hearing from RX.

Goodnight xo