Alcohol and Self-control.

Shock. A state where all your senses become numb by a causative event that triggered it. Last night was shocking. The event of last night will forever be locked in the drawer of my memories labeled with "NOT TO BE PERUSED EVER".
I hate regrets. They let you dwell on the past 'stead of the natural way of moving forward. I can't say I didn't regret but I don't wanna say I do. Also, I can't help feeling silly. Am I such a push-over that I grant people access into my life at random times? I have all these solid walls built around me when I'm sober yet when I get a wee bit tipsy, these walls crumble like ash.
I hate girls who behave like that. I'm like "Don't you have self-control?", yet shockingly I think I am one.
It happened to me once already. Way back when I was young and foolish, and didn't know any better (which I still probably am), my actions then were excusable so I let that one time slip. Now that it's happened again and I don't even have the "so-wasted-to-remember-what-I-did-last-night" card as a solid excuse to make up for it like last time.
That's what's so stupid about what happened last night.
Two years has passed by and I still haven't changed. I thought I had more self-respect and self-control. Just goes to show I still don't.

The most irritating thing is, I used to think that person from last night was someone to be respected. Yea, we were all having fun but don't you like have boundaries to at least respect me as a person. Guess I still don't know people enough to trust them.
Last night made me feel harassed. I know harass is such a strong term but that's basically what I felt. The worst part was I didn't want to make a big fuss about it, so I acted like nothing happened but inside I was aching for an embrace of a friend. I was shaking so much inside. I wasn't drunk enough to feel numb that it happened. But the shock was anesthetic enough. My friends didn't see it and they were being their usual rowdiness that I didn't have the heart to disrupt them. But thank god they were there when that person came again (I think) for a repeat performance.
The nerve of the person to think I'm that easy is what's boiling me now. When I was about to go home, the suggestion of escorting me home had an underlying message. Again, I thank God I had real friends with me that night.

I may be over reacting. It's not like I was raped or anything but I have high dose of respect for myself and that person just swaggered in and trampled all over it, leaving me diminutive and cowering.