I woke up this morning, and the moment I sat up....ever have those few seconds of incomprehension first thing until you remember you did something horrible the night before? The opposite of that. I felt blissfully content and cared for, like it was December 26th or New Year's Day and I'd just seen everyone I'd ever loved the night before. A sensation like waking up from a really, really really good dream, but I didn't have a dream. I've been riding this wave of unreasonable good spirits all day, tapping into it to run an extra mile, knock out a freelance piece that's not due until October, research a few more grad schools.
And then tonight, seemingly by accident, with one chance word I found myself swapping uncharacteristic emotional outpourings, apologies, and laying out every transgression (and lo, they are myriad) with someone I've been wronging pretty consistently for months now (he totally started it), someone way too unbelievably important to risk losing, someone whom I'm far better off sinning with than against. And now that we're back and the world is good and green again, I'm left drained but serene, like I've had what my mother would call A Good Cry.
It is August, so I should know better than to really be rocked by any of this. Four years ago, Allais and I would've clinked glasses and raised a toast to The Stars' latest bender. Maybe this morning's euphoria was just a system shock in the right direction, a hint of how much more joyously I could be existing if I just set this one chain of events back to rights. Or maybe my brain, emitting that Hitchhiker's Guide noise that signifies just how far you are from home, knew I needed a spiritual cuddle after last week.
Or maybe it's some sort of neurotoxin. It's still August.
At least you stopped having these things in second person.
Posted by: Stella at August 8, 2008 01:47 AMIf I never had my patented August Emotional Breakdown That Manifests On The Internet, we'd be missing some of our best blackmail material.
Posted by: Holly at August 8, 2008 01:49 AMFar be it from me to argue with either of you in August, but if people we love would pick a different month in which to fuck with us, you wouldn't have to frantically delete posts in the middle of the night for a month out of every year.
Posted by: Shea at August 8, 2008 01:51 AMIt's nice (sp?) to know it's coming. I can't just have my closest companions morphing into sociopaths whenever they please. Although mine started IN JULY, which is CHEATING. Celestial suckerpunch.
Posted by: Holly at August 8, 2008 01:55 AMIt's not this particular month I mind for you so much as that this particular month wreaks havoc with our fantasy league. Fate should get something during that long boring stretch of baseball season.
Posted by: The Great Barstoolio at August 8, 2008 05:13 AMSo deep and existential.
Allow me to use layman's terms: August sucks sweaty donkey balls {and just for the record, this is indeed a very BAD thing}. No soccer, no college football, fuck. Nothing but fucking baseball.
CFB in 3 short weeks. And although you don't give a shit, proper footy returns next week, so we're almost home free...
Either you took some peyote before you wrote this, or you should take some now. Either way, you'll be set. Just drive out to Joshua Tree for the weekend and become one with the universe...
{PS- I was cleaning out my soon to be former apt last night and came across my THE DEUCE buspass from "I Left Me Lung In Vegas" weekend. The memories of going 1.2 miles in 41 minutes with you and Swindle made me a bit giggly}.
Posted by: Kanu at August 8, 2008 12:21 PMWhile I don't know the first thing about proper football, watching you and Colin get all het up is divinely entertaining.
I forgot all about that bus ride. We could have walked home faster. Like, to California.
Posted by: Holly at August 8, 2008 12:27 PMSHUT UP! That was not four years ago.
Will you still love me when I'm thirty?
It so was. I was horrified when I did the math. Will YOU still love me when I manage to populate my life with boys who are predators in a sexy, rather than uncomfortably literal way?
Posted by: Holly at August 8, 2008 12:46 PMHet up? Surely not. Perhaps that one time when I suggested that Sir Francis Drake's failure to completely finish off the Spanish Armada was indirectly the reason that Scotland lost to Italy and didn't qualify for Euro 2008.
Posted by: DC Trojan at August 8, 2008 11:03 PM