If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.

I'm not sure why, but following my recent dark night of the soul over C.M., my friends thought that the best revenge was to head out on the town and on the pull.  I reluctantly agreed.  I was only willing to venture out of my room after dark anyway, as my eyes were so swollen from crying.  At the very least, I thought, a good night of drinking myself into oblivion was in order.  

After many, many shots of sambuca, I ended up going home with a much much younger man for some meaningless "revenge" sex.  It didn't feel like revenge, though, as I realized, C.M. didn't care.  It would mean nothing to him.  The only person I was hurting was me.  

It would have been one thing if it was fun.  But I just felt sad.  And hollow.  I think this is a feeling I will have to learn to live with...