R is for Rewind...

I slept for forty five minutes earlier that day. Before that a friend of mine went up to the old stomping grounds with me to see my father and step-mother. Her mother had just passed away so they flew out from Texas for the occasion. Sitting around a dinner table talking about weddings, babies and funerals while everyone eats fried chicken is not as exciting as it sounds.

So we left.

We went to the old bar, the place that used to have most of my drinking memories, for a drink and to meet up with two friends. Our foursome retired to their house soon after. I went to bed on a couch for forty five minutes after the sun rose without my noticing and my nose was kind enough to not start bleeding on my shirt.

Work was a zombie adventure. The blood came at work, somewhere between the chip machine and the dish room. Coworkers with no experience were confused, others knew exactly what was happening.

I went home and tried to sleep. I think I took a nap for five or ten minutes, if I even slept at all. My body was exhausted but wanted that feeling back. I started drinking wine.

That is when you came over.

Sweatpants. No contacts. Hair in a tattered mess.

Beautiful.

We sat across from each other and drank hot chocolate. Mine definitely had baileys and schnapps in it, yours probably did too. We talked about our exes, or soon to be exes, and everything wrong with them. I retold parts of my nights, not to brag, and not to warn, but to shed light on the things that sometimes happen at all night garage parties. You weren't stunned, or shocked, or surprised. It was nice.

I realize now that I didn't know you very well then. And you didn't stay very long. But I can still see you sitting on the couch opposite me, me mugs of cocoa and booze and glasses of wine deep into my evening, you peeling back layers of yourself.

That was the first time I got lost in your eyes.

And I was miles away.

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