I Hung Out With Some Friends and Had an Awesome Time
There were four of us. It was easy and fluid — with laughter and eye play as we tilted over — slobbering over days past — and drinking more of what the bottles had to offer with the interest of what the night could initiate.
The guys loved me and the girls enjoyed how much I enjoyed myself. Why do I feel so complete? How can I sit there inside of myself and yet understand the casual interference of the moments as they pass. Why do we all look so perfectly strewn in time as if the patches that starkly beg for my attention aren’t blinding the energy around everything that was created for my comfort.
It feels good to be owned by the elements that betrayed you.
Payback is a bitch, but only if you can’t figure out the ransom for your freedom, which only takes you so far.
But, the intermission is worth more than gold.
I remember bathroom breaks and the small talk with one of the guys who wasn’t supposed to be there, but he sure as hell belonged in the small of my stall. We stumble out and hold each other — hands searching something to grip as they slide with naughty audacity without hiding the throbbing within.
I’m sitting and holding my drink and imagining why it’s blue when it should be green. The conversation is fast paced but I’m able to keep up. There is no hint of what I was aware of before my eyes shut me out. It’s as if a world was created while I withered away in an embankment of displacement.
We all look normal and the language doesn’t give anything away. Both guys are stealing glances at me. The space around them is populated with visitors that hold them steady as they beckon me over.
Not tonight. Let them have their fun.
The girls are close to me. We are going to find our own escape. We have bonded and there is nothing more sacred than girls in tight dresses with lashes that bind the common goal of stealing the pigments of solidarity.
This was genuine. This was pure. This was a dance for the benefit of chance and then the hug of a lifetime. This was feeling the pressure of something good even when you can’t comprehend how these people became those people. This was the joy of times with the ones that propel your trust in second chances and another life that was formed to save you from the scraps of memories that don’t piece together.
This was…my eyes wide shut.