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I shouldn’t talk about staying injury free and not hurting myself, because then? Then I do.
Went out to a show last night with one of my girls, BlueFairy. Great show, entirely too many drinks (red bull / vodka / splash of grenadine), entirely too much dancing and walking around without a coat…

All was great – her bf was our DD. I do so love having a free taxi driver. Especially one that detours to Wendys. Ahhh drunk food. Got back to her place, ate, helped em move a mattress, sobered up, and went to drive home. It has been snowing a lot lately, and the streets/sidewalks are not really clear and in this area, not really even either. Down I went.  Made it to the car, defrosted it and the rest of myself and headed home.

It was a great night, exactly what my newly single self needed after two dinner party evenings. A night out on the town with booze, greasy food, and good peoples. I, of course, managed to make at least 4 new friends over the course of the evening. I also bought cigarettes (I don’t smoke… much) and was passing them out at the bar. Because why not!

And then I fell. And as I drove and I started wondering if I’d really hurt myself again and if I’d need crutches and if I did, if I would borrow NiceGuy’s again. It hit.
I missed him. I missed crawling into mussed sleepy sheets with him. Coming in from outside and how he’d wrap over and around and under me until I got warm. Waking up, slightly hungover to bad jokes and awful breath and the way he’d look at me that would break my heart. I wanted to call him. 2 in the morning on a weeknight. He wouldn’t answer. I know that sober, but then, at two in the morning…. I wanted to believe. Believe that he’d hear the phone and see my name and he would answer. That this time things would be different, he’d realize what he was letting go and he’d refuse to do it. But he never refused anything.
Except me.
I”m a fickle bitch. I know that even if he had answered and we’d had that moment… eventually I would have resented him. Resented that I had to be the one to weaken first, to bend first, to make that call. That while he missed me and we were doing this again, I was the one who had to admit that I wanted him more, first.

So I called Carrots. And I called RedFairy. And finally I called BlueFairy, the friend I’d just left, knowing she would still be awake. She talked me through the drive, up the stairs, into my safety.  I showered and fell into bed.

No regrets this morning, except a twinge in my foot and one in my heart. Because even in the stark light of day… I still want to believe that if I’d called…. he would have answered.

Its okay to believe in Prince Charming, but you have to believe in midnight too.

disarming (adj): tending to allay suspicion or hostility; winning favor or confidence siren (noun): a seductive or tempting woman, esp. dangerous or harmful

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brett dennen

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