10.28.17
The night fell with a heavy clang, so beautifully out of tune, so harmonic to me.
We drove miles and miles, into a familiar, sketchy downtown area, my old stomping ground, yet here I was with new people.
The contrasts of the new and the old struck me harshly as we wandered the broken city streets, I remembered walking down these lanes with a different slew of people, people no long inhabiting my life. My new friends have taken their slots, the spots have been filled, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.
Last time I entered the dark, dingy hookah bar, I was with two distant friends, close in relativity, yet really we could not be further apart from one another- just an ex and a false acquaintance and myself. Months before this I entered the bar with two of my closest friends whom I haven't spoken to in months, maybe that's a good thing.
On this night, though, I entered with three new friends, I've known them for two months, and I like them better than I ever thought I would. We sat on cushions on the floor, blowing pineapple-flavored smoke toward the ceiling. My lungs lit their own personal fire, I smiled at her from across the table, wishing for so much just then.
The lightheadedness came so easily to me just then, allowing my thoughts to drift off, I thought about how I just wanted her, how I shouldn't be wanting her, how I would never have her, how there's a girl back on campus that wants to be mine but I don't want her how I thought I did and just as I expected, I'll hurt her like all the rest.
Once the smoke dissipated, the bill paid, we wandered back out into the cold, into a locked parking garage, around the block traveling as fast as I could on my blistered feet. Their laughter knocked me out of my own panic and back into a happiness. I hadn't met another person that could calm me down like that since her, but they managed to surprise me in the best way possible.
We drove home, back to our home. Home.
The night fell with a lovely melody, our mattresses smacking on the floor, our bodies lying softly on them, nothing more than the sound of our breathing.
We drove miles and miles, into a familiar, sketchy downtown area, my old stomping ground, yet here I was with new people.
The contrasts of the new and the old struck me harshly as we wandered the broken city streets, I remembered walking down these lanes with a different slew of people, people no long inhabiting my life. My new friends have taken their slots, the spots have been filled, and I'm not sure how I feel about that.
Last time I entered the dark, dingy hookah bar, I was with two distant friends, close in relativity, yet really we could not be further apart from one another- just an ex and a false acquaintance and myself. Months before this I entered the bar with two of my closest friends whom I haven't spoken to in months, maybe that's a good thing.
On this night, though, I entered with three new friends, I've known them for two months, and I like them better than I ever thought I would. We sat on cushions on the floor, blowing pineapple-flavored smoke toward the ceiling. My lungs lit their own personal fire, I smiled at her from across the table, wishing for so much just then.
The lightheadedness came so easily to me just then, allowing my thoughts to drift off, I thought about how I just wanted her, how I shouldn't be wanting her, how I would never have her, how there's a girl back on campus that wants to be mine but I don't want her how I thought I did and just as I expected, I'll hurt her like all the rest.
Once the smoke dissipated, the bill paid, we wandered back out into the cold, into a locked parking garage, around the block traveling as fast as I could on my blistered feet. Their laughter knocked me out of my own panic and back into a happiness. I hadn't met another person that could calm me down like that since her, but they managed to surprise me in the best way possible.
We drove home, back to our home. Home.
The night fell with a lovely melody, our mattresses smacking on the floor, our bodies lying softly on them, nothing more than the sound of our breathing.
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