Us

It was a perfect night.
One that defines a love, a friendship, and a bond stronger, more rigorous than marriage.
I used to dream about this, you all, me in the context of elation.

The laughter was tactile; smooth.
Every and any time I looked at you, smiles erupted in our guts and on our faces, all of you.
It was palpable, mutual.

I came here so unsure, my feet tripping over themselves.
And for the first time, ever, I believed that someone genuinely enjoyed my presence, my chatter, my me.
 For once, I felt no less than the one next to me.

In the spirit of the holidays, friendships bloom like the magnolias and love abounds.
Maybe it's just because it's Christmas, but did it not feel like someone gave us a golden ticket?
Maybe it was you all who gave me a golden ticket.

And gestures of affection, friendly and beyond, were abundant.
I wouldn't have, couldn't have, wished for more.
Happiness' ubiquity and Joy's vehemence rushed between us, all of us.

And when we ran off into the night, I wouldn't have, couldn't have, wished for a better person.
Any unease, hitch in the circle, quickly evaporated.

I just felt so good, for the first time in a long time.

And so my toes were screaming at me from the cold, my throat was pleading me to stop my joyful laughter, but my heart said, "No. Not tonight."

And so when the shouts of delight had subdued,
As the furious, overwhelming emotion had started to say goodbye,
I looked back, but only for a second.

There you stood. Just as always, lackadaisical, nonchalant.
But something was wrong, for me at least.
Not sad, just melancholy.
Just new.
For you and me.
But you smiled, and I smiled.

It was a perfect night, almost.