Last night was supposed to be a good time. It was supposed to be my first time drinking with my friends. I was going to enjoy myself. Last night was supposed to be our grand party during
spring break, our last blast to remember as we finish the final weeks of our
first year of college.
All of my close friends were there. The ones who I had hung out with the majority of my high school years. These were the people who I respected, who I cared more about than anyone.
Everything started out fine. I went out to dinner followed by walking and talking at the most beautiful vantage point in Pittsburgh with my best friend, and a special someone, but that's for another node. I was having a spendid time before the party had even started. When we got to my apartment, with all the alcohol, we were planning on continuing a great time. That's what it was.
I knew that my friends had been drinking ludicrous amounts of alcohol in college. I had never witnessed it, and as such, their ignorance was unknown to me, and I still respected them. Something happens to that respect whenever you are wiping vomit from their bare body. Something happens to that respect when the people you cared about, the people you looked up to, the people you wished only the best for, are voluntarily killing themselves. This is what happened to the grand time that I was having.
While I was walking my special someone home, my best friends were drinking themselves silly. They looked fine, until their body decided that the 15 drinks in about an hour and a half was not something that it wanted to deal with. My best friend, the one I would discuss anything and everything from philosophy to women, couldn't put two words together to save his life. He sat there in the most sorry state I have ever seen. The kid who told me to live like I'll die tomorrow, was unable to remember anything about the 'fun' that he was having at the moment with his head hanging over a trash can containing the alcohol he had 'enjoyed' not half an hour before.
I still love my friends, as they are my friends. We have been through it all. But as I think about the events that had transpired, I don't believe I had the grand time I was expecting. I instead think about how I had to care for my friends in their most fragile state. But what hurts the worst is that I cared for them while it appears that they couldn't care less about themselves.