I have spent nights with boys.
I have spent nights with boys; boys that drink and smoke and grab your hips before they pull you into their arms. Boys that let everyone in the room know that you are theirs and no one else’s. Boys that make you feel like you have so much to learn about the world. I have spent nights with boys; boys that drink and smoke and sit as close to you as possible in cramped benches. Boys that jump off swings while highly intoxicated, landing right in your arms where it feels like they’re supposed to be. Boys that make you feel like you’re not alone… Like you’re a bird just diving into the ocean looking for some food- only to come up with nothing. I have spent nights with boys; boys that leave late August and aren’t heard from again until three months later. And yes, that has happened twice in a row. I’ve been with boys that don’t answer and instead they move onto a new chapter. I’ve spent nights with boys that have given me enough words to fill up a journal with; enough words to help me write my own chapters. They’re not toxic, and they’re not regrets whatsoever. They’re just stories of my past. Stories that have taught me more about myself than I could’ve ever done on my own. And for that, I will always love them. Whether they’re near or far or distanced or close or even completely reinvented, their friendship will always matter to me.
