i thank you God for most this amazing, meaning, tonight I will slip on my horrible crappy shoes and take myself for a walk in the moonlight. I have already got my bathrobe and pajamas on, but I will allow myself this eccentric flight after a year of (mostly) within the lines and down the down staircase, in the in door. Uh.


B. throws rocks at my window at midnight, sneaks in with a CD. If I have to choose I will take this any time, over boys trying too hard with flowers and kisses, over boys who actually want me. Or at least the pieces they see.

Who cares. B. and I have this other structure in which boy-girl rules do not apply. And it is completely secret, exclusive to us. I fall asleep thinking wonderful, wonderful, wonderful and lucky, lucky, lucky. For I had all but forgotten.

In an overlong letter to T. I say all my friends are scattered and I never have real conversations any more. But:

Tonight after dinner S. appears and I scream and leap into her arms. After a year. I think it might be awkward but it is not. We fall into step walking down the college town drag, faking orgasms and grabbing each other's asses and bringing each other up to speed (who got sick, who got hated, who drank too much - which is all of us).

We split a slice of cheese cake at the coffee shop I normally hate. The music has improved (from kitschy '80s pop to The Moon and Antarctica). It might have annoyed me that she does not eat the crust on the slice of cheesecake we split, but does scoop out the whip cream on my hot chocolate with her fingers. In fact, a year ago, it would have, but tonight it does not. It is not just maturity speaking. It is not just gratitude. Hello, I love it. I want to wrap S. and A. in an enormous bear hug as we leave but tickle them and grab their asses, instead, hoping it says the same thing.

We are moving through a night which has finally decided to be pleasant after hours of moody rain. We move into the sunset; this one ends the way good stories do.

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