Night Out, Mind In

I asked for a beer to be polite. The truth was, I was tired. As I wrapped my warm fingers around the ice glass, a slug of foam covered my hand.

I sighed, discreetly of course. I didn’t want Jonathan to notice my evident discomfort. It was the first time I had seen him since… I couldn’t even remember when anymore.

As we carried our drinks outside, the thought of my duvet tantalized me. A strand of wind somehow shivered through my flannel shirt and onto my spine, and more frozen beer burned my sleeping hand.

I sat down at an available chair, and Jonathan followed. I pressed my sticky beer hand on my jeans. He smiled like he was 3 beers in, but he wasn’t. He was annoyingly sober and annoyingly eager to enjoy the night.

“Ah… I missed this! I missed you!” he dove into his beer with gusto.

I covered the foam on my upper lip with my bottom lip and made an agreeing sound. When I descended my lips back to their neutral position, I felt the cold on my cupid’s bow and shivered again.

“I can’t wait for you to meet Rob and Jason. They should be here any minute, and Rob’s girlfriend Sascha is coming too, you remember Sascha? She was at Ben’s party last summer. That’s where they met. Rob and Sascha I mean…”

By this point I had zoned out; as he spoke, I took in just enough information to be able to demonstrate minimal engagement. My performance was undoubtedly weak, but it was the best I could muster up.

Jonathan didn’t seem to mind or even notice for that matter. His eyes darted at all the passing girls as he spoke. He looked like a child that had just been introduced to the sun.

In a way, this was a good thing. It meant he wouldn’t be upset if I just evaporated into the night at some point. I imagined it in my mind as my eyes fixated on the green beams that violently blinked on Jonathan’s phone.

I rubbed my eyes and searched for another point to focus on. A group of stoners trying to light a flame in the wind. A couple of questionably dressed people, shaking their asses at strangers and laughing hysterically. A neon green Kebab sign blinking in syncopated zzzs.

I didn’t know if I felt anxious or numb. Maybe both. Then I started questioning if I could be feeling both. Didn’t numbness cancel out the anxiety? My rabbit hold was promptly interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the 'gang'. Let's be honest, I didn't know these people. This was not my 'gang'.

Well, technically I had bonded with Sascha over a mutual frustration in the bathroom over a year ago. Could I say I knew Sascha?

No. Not really. Not more than what her loose threads of golden hair and glowing skin could tell.

I wasn’t in the mood to meet new people. Obviously. I wasn’t even used to the superficiality of drunk strangers anymore. The instant connections made because you discovered someone else who binge-watched some show half the world had already seen. Or because their name was the same as someone in your family.

Then there’s the laughing. All the laughing as people you knew retold the same stories about that time they were drunk and did some stupid shit. Is anyone laughing because they actually think it was funny, or are they just too drunk not to laugh?

“Mel! It’s so good to see you again!” Sascha came in for an overly enthusiastic hug. I think I just stood in mountain pose. Breathing.

"Yah" was all I could reply. I could have milked it, asked her how she'd been, or what she was up to. But I didn't. When I'm tired, my need to diplomatically fuel a conversation is dead.

More green glowed into my heavy eyes. Sascha was chuckling at the responses to her latest Insta story. The artificial light burnt my eyes. I craved the darkness of the night to soothe me.

"Who's ready to hit the bars?!" Rob and Jonathan shouted in glory.

Everyone became euphoric at the proposal. Weren't we already hitting the bar? I had barely even taken a sip of the wet beer in my hand. My instinct was to leave it on the table. Surely some drunk stranger would find it.

"Hey Mel, are you coming or what?"

I forced a half smile onto my haggard face, and obligingly followed behind them. Why was I going with them? Why couldn't I just fess up and go home already?

As they walked in front of me, singing in jubilation, and hugging each other compulsively, my feet kept treading absentmindedly. One bar became another bar. They danced, and I watched. They drank, and I faked an agreeable look. The sky got lighter. The night older.

I thought I was done with this. With doing things I didn't feel like doing just to appease others. Or was it a sense of committment? I couldn't tell anymore. It was almost morning, and I had lost sight of myself.

"I think we're going to head on home guys, this was amazing! What a night! We have to do this again!" Rob announced with Sascha hanging on his stained arm sleeve.

The first sign of daylight came through, illuminating a patch of emerald weeds on the cobblestone. The weeds looked peaceful, well slept and fresh. Then the group began to dissapate, and there it was. My green light to go home.