Once, the day before my niece was born, I got so drunk I couldnât keep drinking, I had you read the terrible poetry I wrote about you, and thought you were never going to speak to me again.
Once, you called me by your ex-girlfriendâs name when I went to go help a huge drunk guy out of the middle of the street. I laughed at you, it honestly felt endearing and it was fun calling you out on it. You brought it up to the guy at the bar sitting on the other side of me, obviously so embarrassed. You told me it was a combination of being drunk and caring about me. I know youâre still friends with her. I think thatâs important.
Once, that same night, we hopped into an uber with your sick, drunk roommate and when he puked in the car, I helped clean up the mess and continued to make sure he was okay. You said âthank you for being awesome.â We kissed outside the car, stupidly and in poor timing.
Once, days later (not weeks, not months), you said âlove you!â when you left and I was meeting you at the next bar. I pulled a good friend into a room and drunkenly told her that you did. We never ever talked about it.
Once, the night before Christmas Eve, you picked out 3 coloring books and told me to pick one because you didnât remember which one I had. You got the other two for your little sister. You called me beautiful, sober.
Once, we spent every Sunday in January watching Star Wars because I had never seen them. The last Sunday was the big football game of the season so we didnât, and on a Wednesday we watched them while we got drunk and after, read âHills Like White Elephantsâ out loud from your collection of short stories. We laughed about it the next day. Who does that?
