Have you ever been frightened by the amount of alcohol you realized you consumed the day after, when you wake up surprisingly not hungover enough to compensate for the empty bottles that surround you on the floor? You wake in your girlfriend's bed to find her in the same crinkled ball, hood up, hair in face, trying her best, like you, to keep the sun out of your eyes and your brain asleep. Your trembling hands ransack the apartment and then the car looking for spare Advil that will squelch the last remnants of the night before. You joke about the "best water ever" and say you're gonna bottle it from the bath tub and sell it as a hangover remedy to the old hipsters you blatantly made fun of the night before. You scan the apartment and relish that despite making love against anything and everything, NOTHING is broken and for the most part clean. You laugh because there is no other way to deal with it.
The two of you enter the kitchen to see the lineup of empty bottles... A bottle of 100 proof.. gone. A bottle of 70 proof.. gone. And the back of flasks of 70 proof from the week before... gone. We pick through the bottles and laugh at the fact we remember the entire night before, we weren't that teetery, loud, obnoxious or even noticeably drunk.
We laugh because we feel hardcore and deep down somewhat ashamed, although even as lovers, we will never admit that. Then the thought arises inside you...HOW? How did we do it? How will we do it again? That is a ton of alcohol and we just laugh. We laugh because we love each other, we love The Clash (This is Radio Clash calms my panic attack) because we cant think of any other way to live, and mostly because no matter what, it is fun... it is a happy we haven't felt in too long. Together we can conquer anything... even if it is only some liquor and shitty food now, someday, it will be so much more..
It's strange how suddenly you can look at someone you've known for a while and cant help but think how amazing they are. Can't help but want to know everything about them, everything they have to offer, everything they once were and everything they'll become. How emo and obsessive, but hey, I've been listening to The Cure alot. In fact, I even had a dream last night that Robert Smith came to one my classes and sang Pictures of You. It was strangely homo-erotic.
