NOT okay.

Not by far.

I still feel sick for one thing. And I'm freaking myself out.

I think I may have mood issues of my own. On one hand I was ready to slay CA for the nonchalant way he seemed to be handling the news he dropped on me yesterday morning. But then I thought about it... what good does it do to freak? The damage has (or hopefully hasn't) been done, so panicking isn't gonna help shit. Maybe he got all his panic out while I was 2 steps from unconscious beside him. He did say he tried to tell me after he realized what happened and I told him not to worry about it. But shit, I was drunk. How did he expect me to answer?

But yeah, so I ain't mad at him anymore. I think I have a very distorted view of how people are supposed to react to certain things. I dont know what bothered me more, the fact that he didn't seem to care, or the fact that he didn't seem to care while I was caring. Maybe if I wasn't trippin, I'd have been okay with the way he threw it out there. But since I was having a mini hissy fit, I was upset that it didn't seem to phase him. Both the fact that he coulda knocked me up, and the fact I was freaking out at that current time.

I have to work on being so self-centered.

Because I saw it as a crisis and he obviously didn't (or maybe he did, but he's trying not to freak out), I took it as a personal affront. Like, "oh so this nigga don't give a shit about me." I know that's so not true, and it's not fair to him. I'm glad I didn't go off on him like I wanted to. I was a little dry, but shit. I gotta get a pass for realizing that I could be telling my folks I'm a baby momma.

That shit still scares me. It's not acceptable, and I could be hella fucked.

I'm banking on the fact that I'd JUST gotten off my period. Like Thursday. So there's hopefully no way I could drop another egg so damn quick by Saturday night. God I hope that's the case. I'm not really scared, I just don't want to deal with this. I like feeling free and happy. This kinda shit ain't supposed to happen... we were being responsible, he wasn't hittin it raw. I can't take birth control because of the fuckin hormones and my genetic predisposition to breast cancer, so anything that alters hormones is a no-no. The only other option is not to fuck, and well, I tried that. And I failed. All I can do is use condoms, so fuck. Gimme a break.

Not literally though.

Now I'm not mad at him. I miss him, and I want to see him again. I make myself sick. I'm just glad I keep all my psychosis to myself. He's none the wiser about my issues. He probably just thinks I was still sick from drinking, which I was (and am). I need to eat, but I'm scared since my stomach still feels funny. I wonder what the fuck was in that drink, that shit was strong. My brother told me that it would probably be in my system for a minute because I never drink and I drank so much at that party. Fuck, I ain't never doing that again.

Well lemme go work.