I’m with him at the grocery store and he’s trying desperately to help me decide on what type of juice I will buy for my cocktail tonight. It’s a classic scenario with me. After some serious contemplation, I decide on grapefruit and spend another 10 minutes trying desperately to find something in the store that somehow resembles a magical creature: the theme of tonights party. What the fuck am I supposed to do with that? I have hardly any money left from our trip and I’m the new girl at the party and clearly I cannot show up in a non-magical creature costume. So I find a green shirt that fringes at the end for $8 and I call it an outfit. It’s the perfect shirt for a woodland fairy.
We roll up to the party. It’s Ashland, Oregon, so we are greeted by a rowdy bunch of magical creatures smoking spliffs on the porch. These creatures went all out for the night. Fairies, unicorns, monsters, carnival creatures, you name it, it was there. I’m offered copious amounts of cannabis and tobacco as I politely decline, making my way through the odd magical forest of creatures and into the kitchen to make myself a much needed cocktail.
I can already tell I am going to see Ashland at it’s finest tonight.
I’m finding it hard to converse with people tonight. It’s strange because the energy is vibrant and lively but perhaps my body is tired from the multiple nights of drinking all the delicious craft beer in Bend. My body periodically tenses up around new people and I awkwardly spit out anything that saves me from silence. I find myself constantly looking out for him, hoping to latch on his side– so unlike me. It’s our last night together and I’m feeling it.
Suddenly, she walks in. She was the missing centerpiece of the party. She is absolutely stunning in the most painful of ways, and she knew it. She had it all. She was the queen of feminine existence. Not giving a fuck about what others thought about her only because she knew she had all the people swooning over her. God, politely fuck her. She wore a bikini top with a cape and trendy hat. You could find her dancing solo on the floor, all eyes on her. She brought her past lover with her to the party. You knew she didn’t love him as much as he loved her. A true vixen at its finest. I hated her for multiple reasons, but the main reason was because she was going through exactly what I just went through in my previous relationship. I was her in every way to my lover and I played the game and I got brutally attacked at the end. She was the kind of girl you never want to start anything with because she will so silently fuck up your life in the most chaotically beautiful of ways.
The way he stared at her was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was the crazy kind of love that will rip your fucking guts out and leave you sloshed in misery for the rest of your life. I wanted to shake her and tell her to stop, but it was too beautiful to watch. I was mesmerized by her power. She swayed there, dancing next to the disco ball all by herself.
Like a fucking movie.
Looshey sat by my side, inviting herself to be my friend for the night. She was lovely and didn’t come on too strong, which was nice. I discussed my innermost thoughts with her and how fucked up everything was. But it wasn’t bad.
No no no. It was perhaps one of the best nights of my life. I can’t stop laughing at the people blowing up balloons with nitrous. If I wasn’t so smart and scared that it would kill me, I would have tried it myself. But I left it up to all the little creatures to delight me in their poisonous ways. Such genuine love and sincerity for each other was shared that night and I missed the feeling of having close friends to share moments like this with. Happy wrinkles were created this night.
Quirky events happened: One carnival kid was sipping on nitrous rolling around on the grass all by himself… he got caught and got pissed but it was too hard to take him seriously when the front of his shirt was covered in red wine and his backside was covered in shit from the mud. One kid with a serious gambling problem lost a bunch of money and bet his coworker a 5th of Jack that he wouldn’t gamble for two months.
Everything was so ironic and organically beautiful, I didn’t want to leave.
So we didn’t.
At 4:00am someone baked cookies. He came up to me and offered me a cookie. Hands down, the worst cookies that have ever touched my lips. We look over at the carnival kid and he’s chatting with his friends eating the cookie like it’s good or something.
Later, I ask him if we can leave because I have to actually sleep before my long drive in the morning. We walk back home silently.
We turn on American Heist when we get home. It’s 5 in the morning and we aren’t ready to call it a night. It’s a terrible movie, but we continue to watch it in hopes of it getting better. Then we sit in bed, side by side. We know what we’re both thinking. I hope you know that I will love you forever but it’s a different kind of love– a deep rooted friendship and I love you to the core of my existence. Perhaps I will never love someone this way again. In this moment I am terrifically sad for it’s our final parting and realization that we may never be lovers again, just friends who love each other deeply.
In the morning, he made me a CD. It was so bittersweet to leave. I left him listening to the music that so epically described our relationship together
And I am so grateful for you.