on friendships, drinking, and home.
08.17.09back&
forth
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i want to get drunk again, just three drinks and we're sitting on the floor, fifty stories up from the marinas and the ocean, my eye ever-expanding over it as far as i can see - it's grey and smokey and the lights over a city catch my eye and i'm laughing and sipping my skyy with raspberry lemonade crystal light crack and we are talking about life and family and our friendship and everything in this magical, sitting outside on the balcony, getting drunk with your best friend kind of way. drunk in the kind of way you haven't been for at least a YEAR. drunk in the kind of way you actually have the energy for, instead of having a drink or two or five but never pushing to get DRUNK instead merely letting tipsy takeover, nowhere near noticeable intoxication. the drunk we were was happy, catch up with your best friend, celebrate life and a new apartment, celebrate change, and get drunk and talk about puppies and babies and our families and just be happy.it feels like panama, i said. out there on the balcony, the air from the ocean. the feeling of belonging, of being home. and maybe this was just tipsy with emotional drunk, calm drunk, the feeling of warmth from your toes to your fingers. this is not what happens when it's winter and you're alone and you mean to go out but you drink too much (read: MAYBE two) tequila (with sprite) and instead of leaving, you take off your clothes and makeup and get in bed and hold your stomach and fall asleep at 7pm. this drunk does not compare to summer, finishing finals, drinking seco and orange juice and wanting to leave a party quite quickly in order to go home and sleep off the past week of mostly sleepless nights. this is not two glasses of wine at winetasting, because while there is laughter there, laughing floating from our throats into the chilled air, there is less familiarity. there are photos of teeth stained with wine (not mine) and genuine warmth, but photos of those whole have turned cold, whether by greed or circumstance, are so tragically unappealing to me - the drunk experienced them was merely a flicker, and this drunk, me and her, is a flame, fireworks across the sky, piroutting between boats and stars, taking your breath away with it's brightness. shine on you crazy diamond, and oh did we ever.
and then we were laying in bed, listening to songs, and i made a face and she could see me go nostalgic and she said, don't cry, bunny. and then she laughed and i laughed and we played the music louder and danced through the empty apartment, then made another drink (i think i might make another. LET'S! i said and then we talking in the kitchen, getting ice and mixing and sipping and stirring and sipping some more til we draped ourselves over the bed, talking and talking until we fell asleep, dizzy, spinning, looking at the ocean from the bed.
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