Sweet Tea on a Tuesday night

The nights I crave are the ones where I stop caring about the stresses of first impressions and which D to be and I become wildly and amazingly myself. I’m honest and friendly and open and share and don’t apologize. The nights I crave are the ones where I live in the now and agree to another drink without thinking of tomorrow’s work day. I become me, in the now. And I’m not selling or trying to find a motive.

I research the people in front of me and dig for likeness and differences with me. I’m fascinated with all of it. They know the kind of douches I’ve dated and the mean girls I’ve dumped, only they have different names. We’re all on the same boat and looking for the same epiphany to help us get sleep each night. We’re all looking for that closure that we say we don’t need, and yet, jump to each new text for- just in case. We’re all seconds away from pulling on our life jackets; relieved to see that someone else has just as shaky hands up close.

The nights I crave are the ones where I let go of yesterday and am not anxious about tomorrow. And those nights do happen. Like tonight. In those nights, I flirt with a new boy and sip on a new drink. I forgive myself for the mistakes I made in the last week/month and nod happily to another drink without looking at the time. Sometimes, it’s best to let time go while you sort out the present, no matter where you are.

The nights I crave are the ones where smoked salmon and string cheese have become my drunken munchies and the days of delivery pizza are a faded memory. In those nights, I let go of whatever I’ve been searching for and I just hold on to whatever’s in front of me, and that’s okay.