starting over
the lovely smell of wood-smoke in the air made me feel thicker amongst the clouds. fire fire everywhere. i saw you dancing there, beer in your hand, the blue of the ocean in your eyes. i felt the romance. you looked at me through the fire, and I guess that is how you will always see me; aflame.
i was drinking whiskey, smoking too much, wearing too little. it was so hot out earlier, and now it was night time. somehow after three years of avoiding the beach i found myself at a bonfire with a girl from work who i thought i was in love with. strike that, a girl from work i so desperately wanted to be in love with, for she was beautiful. beautiful. flawless skin, a sneaky smile, eyes that winked at me like the pebbles i used to collect from the river at Horseshoe Meadows. But more than that, she was sure of herself. Her life was at a place where she could forever put on pause and be content, no, happy with. I was constantly aiming for the fastforward so as to be where she was. i suppose i was hoping that maybe if we could be in love some of that certainty would spill over unto me. She had a girlfriend, though. But she was out of town and invited me to this bonfire, and although I had several papers to write, I decided to oblige. and there i was: drinking whiskey, smoking too much, wearing too little, and there you were, looking at me through the flame. i noticed this, and started to feel misplaced in such a big group of people. started to feel too big or to small or too noticeable, or not noticeable enough, and felt my feet taking me towards the water, away from the fire, away from the people, away from trying to adopt a life that i was never and could never be apart of. i sat at the very edge of the shore break, daring the water to hit me. i closed my eyes for just a moment, only to open them to you.
"you must be claire's girlfriend"
"nope, wrong girl," I took a swig of Jameson.
"yeah, i didn't think it could be you. i heard she was a bit on the manly side."
"am i not manly?"
"no, not really. sorry to be the one to tell you"
i drunkenly tried to explain to you that i wanted to sleep with claire, although i knew she had a girlfriend, although i was not really interested in girls. all of this turned out to be much easier to explain when drunk. and you understood. you told me you came with your coworker, straight from work, a friend of claire's. we turned back to look at the party, to see the people who brought us here, we could just barely make out our respective friends kissing. you told me you saw me drinking straight whiskey through the flames. you actually said "through the flames" and i giggled at how seemingly poetic it was. i told you i planned to move to italy when school was over, and you said experiencing Rome was like feeling another dimension: that you could feel the vibrations in the air, in the wind. you could see the waves of heat and light. after you said that i started to feel an ache somewhere that i couldn't place, which grew as i looked at you. you smiled and touched your hair and i kissed you on the lips.
i was drinking whiskey, smoking too much, wearing too little. it was so hot out earlier, and now it was night time. somehow after three years of avoiding the beach i found myself at a bonfire with a girl from work who i thought i was in love with. strike that, a girl from work i so desperately wanted to be in love with, for she was beautiful. beautiful. flawless skin, a sneaky smile, eyes that winked at me like the pebbles i used to collect from the river at Horseshoe Meadows. But more than that, she was sure of herself. Her life was at a place where she could forever put on pause and be content, no, happy with. I was constantly aiming for the fastforward so as to be where she was. i suppose i was hoping that maybe if we could be in love some of that certainty would spill over unto me. She had a girlfriend, though. But she was out of town and invited me to this bonfire, and although I had several papers to write, I decided to oblige. and there i was: drinking whiskey, smoking too much, wearing too little, and there you were, looking at me through the flame. i noticed this, and started to feel misplaced in such a big group of people. started to feel too big or to small or too noticeable, or not noticeable enough, and felt my feet taking me towards the water, away from the fire, away from the people, away from trying to adopt a life that i was never and could never be apart of. i sat at the very edge of the shore break, daring the water to hit me. i closed my eyes for just a moment, only to open them to you.
"you must be claire's girlfriend"
"nope, wrong girl," I took a swig of Jameson.
"yeah, i didn't think it could be you. i heard she was a bit on the manly side."
"am i not manly?"
"no, not really. sorry to be the one to tell you"
i drunkenly tried to explain to you that i wanted to sleep with claire, although i knew she had a girlfriend, although i was not really interested in girls. all of this turned out to be much easier to explain when drunk. and you understood. you told me you came with your coworker, straight from work, a friend of claire's. we turned back to look at the party, to see the people who brought us here, we could just barely make out our respective friends kissing. you told me you saw me drinking straight whiskey through the flames. you actually said "through the flames" and i giggled at how seemingly poetic it was. i told you i planned to move to italy when school was over, and you said experiencing Rome was like feeling another dimension: that you could feel the vibrations in the air, in the wind. you could see the waves of heat and light. after you said that i started to feel an ache somewhere that i couldn't place, which grew as i looked at you. you smiled and touched your hair and i kissed you on the lips.