Tuesday, January 27th, 2015
Do you remember when we went to Suga's and got drunk on lavender martinis? I think that happened more than once. Or when I forced you to come to Planned Parenthood with me after I watched "Kids" by Larry Clark, but it was closed so we went to the mall instead? Remember when we sat on the grass as you tried to complete your final charcoal drawings? We bounced from one patch of the quad to another because you couldn't find a scene you wanted to draw, until without warning the sky began to downpour in the erratic way it does in the Springs. We rode our bikes back, trying to save your supplies from becoming soaked, and sat on the deck of the house in which you lived. While you drew the air's moisture fused with my Parliament smoke, dampening our hair and coating us in a musky but refreshing mist. Our skin was still tan then. Later, lightening struck behind the house setting fire to a garbage can; half of your housemates gathered in your room on the top floor to watch through the window from above, trying to decide what to do. We used to spend a lot of time trying to decide what to do. It was nice though, you know? I mean, it was awful, feeling so lost and indecisive, but it was nice being together.