I loved having men tell me I was hot as they rubbed up on me, and I loved hearing how they wanted to screw me. I loved it all because it meant someone still wanted me. No matter how gross and drunk they were, I was still wanted by men, which was what I needed to feel after being unwanted by Peter. No matter how drunk I was I never had sex with them though. I teased the nights away, then always found my escape home alone. I was a dicktease who flirted and kissed, drank and danced, but left alone each time I went out. I was still celibate, but I was a dance floor whore. For the first few months, Steven and my girlfriends were loving and kind, and they helped me try to get better. They laughed at me as I staggered home or barfed my guts out all night. They made excuses for my drunken behavior, telling people I was simply trying to move on however I could, in whatever way I could. But sadly the attitudes of my friends and brother slowly changed. Eventually, I became more of a burden than a fun, drunken friend or sister. I was irritating to Kim who was tired of pushing me out of bars when I went a little too far making out with someone all over the dance floor. And I became a nuisance to Steven who would get calls way too frequently from my friends or even from my drunken self to get picked up and brought home. I began fighting and arguing with everyone, and I was becoming disgusting, even to myself. I knew I was acting like an idiot, but I didn't know how to stop it. I really couldn't control the need to be reckless and drunk, any more than I could stop the feelings that provoked my reckless drunkenness. I was struggling. And I felt lost.
