I hope I never forget this, this feeling. This moment when we are young, but we are finally women, living on our own, spending what seems to us a great deal of money as we please, and sometimes wisely. A time when we’ve grown into our bodies and our lives, we can walk home without bras and make bad decisions, when we cry so easily and drink too much and live on chips and dip.
And we get closer. We get closer.
I don’t ever want to forget walking home, nearly 2am, and knowing that I should have gone to bed earlier, knowing that I will be exhausted (again) in the morning. So tired I feel like I am already asleep, like I am swimming through the murky-warm waters of a late summer night, all grays and deep blues and the thick, silent air.
My feet sore; my heart happy.