cold weather diary, 3.

i'm sitting on the floor of your friend's apartment. they are hardwood floors - light in color. yellow. it's new years eve - well, now it's new years day. i'm freezing. the kind of freezing that they describe as "to the bone." i'm sitting on a heating pad, sometimes holding it on my back, between my fingers, on my stomach, on my neck. maybe he forgot to turn on the heat. why didn't i ask for a blanket? why didn't i insist on sitting on the couch? why was i on the ground? you probably asked me if i wanted to sit on the chair - but i've always hated folding chairs, so i probably said no. i'm sitting on my coat which is acting as a really poor insulator between me and the ground. i'm ready to leave.

earlier that day we went to the liquor store in east liberty. you bought me gin. we weren't going to spend new years together. that's when we were still like that - before things fell apart the first time - luckily, after that first time, there wasn't a second time. you'd buy me my gin, i'd go with my friends, you'd go with yours, and we'd see each other the next day. i went to sushi with lacy and her boyfriend. after dinner with them, i think i missed you. or maybe i trusted you. or maybe i just wanted you. whatever it was, it was enough that i was willing to spend the night with you, your friends, your ex-girlfriend and her whole family. it had to have been trust.

they dropped me off downtown at a jazz club. your friend was playing piano in the band. i saw your ex-girlfriend and thought she was cute - adorable - i understood what you had seen in her. because i think i saw some of it in her too. i remember dancing with you. with you, and with all of them. i was glad matt was there. he always made things easier for me. more than anything, i remember having a good time. i remember having a good time with you. and with them. and with your ex-girlfriend and her family.

i was ready to leave. it was getting late. and i couldn't stand being cold much longer. plus i knew we still had a long walk. and you were ready too, i think. we're walking up shady avenue with matt. i didn't wear socks that night. i am colder than i ever remember being. in my mind, i'm comparing the ascent up shady avenue to climbing everest - i'm thinking this will be a good psychological trick to make the walk seem better, in the end. we get to your house and part ways with matt. i think you might have hugged him. i hope you did.

we get into bed and you lay, what i remember being, about 1,000 blankets on us. including the soft pinkish redish one that i liked the most. i'm shivering now. eventually, our warmth warms me. you probably fell asleep before me. that's how it usually went. and i probably laid in bed all night feeling confused about what had just happened. did i really just have fun with you and your ex-girlfriend? were you really that good?