Happiness

This weekend. Where do I even start with this weekend. I feel hungry and starving and full and alive. The city is such a nerve ending. We went to sleep and woke up on a different planet and a filthy one, but one I love all the same. We barely slept and when we did it was hard. We cried and laughed and got drunk and ran around Brooklyn like fish knowing we would never be caught.
And now I’m back in the wake of a weekend I don’t want to let go. I had such strange dreams. Conquering that city for even a day makes me feel like I can do anything. This time, New York was good to me. There have been others I have left lonely and sick and desperate. But maybe I was lonely and sick and desperate.

I couldn’t believe walking into a room filled with our friends. God, it was warm. I remember sitting on the couch, their babies some new and sleeping, others growing and bouncing around; we all had beers in our hands. I just stared at every one. How long had it been since we all gathered in a room of friends? And that many good friends? 5? 6 months? And even they mentioned how they hadn’t all gotten together like this in so long like we were some sort of glue that brought everyone together. I love feeling like glue. I remember the last day we were all together – for my 28th birthday party this past summer.
I hadn’t realized how isolated we’ve been, not that it’s a desperate isolation or severe loneliness, but a missing comfort. It’s a solace I hadn’t known we had grown so accustomed to until we were gathered in that room. I miss them terribly. And others. Lives are so full of loss and gain. But this has not been a mistake – moving here. For whatever nostalgia I feel, it is just that. There is always a reality. But what I loved about going back was how happy we were. How happy we’ve become here and the kind of thing you carry around inside you into an old life and say FUCK YOU – YOU TRIED AND COULDN’T KILL ME. For a brief few hours, the past and present were filled with so much fucking happiness, it was another kind of drunk. One you know won’t last forever, but it doesn’t matter. It was there. I know it was there.