So I just sent the fucking text and it’s 2 in the morning. I think all I said was I love you to my girlfriend of 4 months. We have been tiptoeing around the statement for a month or so but none of has had the intuition to actually say it to one another. I figured I would start out the routine. Jackie has asked me a question that related similarly beforehand. She asked me “how emotionally attached to I are you?” Me, being not only new to dating but also a smart-ass but a romantic replied in with the only metaphor I could think of. “I am along for the ride.” She then asked me to explain myself. I said “Well if you were, figuratively, a boat driver in this relationship I would be the wake boarder holding onto the rope. She didn’t know how to take this but I felt like that was a sufficient answer to her question. Her friend Alex agreed that it was a good thing but most of the time I don’t really know what comes out of my mouth. It’s never pre-arranged or thought after but when it opens and I am ready, which is very important, then it just spews informative nonsense.
My phone is hardly seeable and I desperately need to charge it. I stumble through the trailer with it’s 70’s carpet and sandy carpets to the kitchen. I check the fridge before heading to my charger next to the sink. Oh there is my handle. I pull out a cup from the cupboard, red, and put the frosty Smirnoff Vodka to the 1/3 mark. I screw back the cap and place it back in the fridge and right next to it I find a two liter of Mountain Dew and pour the rest in the cup, trying to eyeball it like a bartender would. I then hip check the door close and get back to my duty. Waddling over the charger, I put my phone on top and head back outside to the festivities.
Half the people our missing. Some went to the lake to marvel in the stars and others just went on a walk to get away from the drunken stupor. All of us are drunk though. Adam already threw up before some of us even started drinking. He tried to fall asleep before midnight but I tried to go in and check on him. All I heard was a cattle march in the trailer and a loud thud at the rear end like someone fell through a ceiling. Pretty close though. I went inside and saw him crawling to the bathroom with his arms like he was trenching underneath barbed wire. He made it in the toilet though which for some of us was a incredible feat. “Dude you need to come back outside man” I say. And he follows.
Danny, Wills, Adam and me are just basking in the campfire we have set up. It’s pretty big but we know we can architect something more impressive. We get the grill that’s tied to a swivelling post so you can cook food on it and then easily take it off the heat but let it sizzle to perfection without burning the shit out of your hands. We put it over the fire with nothing on it. Hmm what to do. Being clue-less and wreck-less we actually start getting more firewood and start stacking it normally on the second rack, one at a time. We make a double decker fire that looks like it could easily burn down a man. Then the fire reaches up and ignites the wood and we get hit by the heat that only can be compared to the sun. Before anyone gets back and is either A) Totally jealous of our fire and decides to do anything drastic to it or B) Is really pissed off about our fire and wants to put it out, we need to sacrifice stuff to it. We get up out of our lawn chairs and picnic tables and start tribally dancing around the fire. We praised the fire god that night and it gave us a might fine reward of being drunker then our wildest dreams. Danny isn’t even wearing shoes and is putting his feet in the fire to feel the energy. I one up him and rip off my shirt that I didn’t even know I was wearing anymore and huck it in the fire. We cheer at the top of our lungs. We both needed better luck then the next so Danny wanted to make a better sacrifice. He rummaged through his musical box of fun and pulled out a set of bongo drums. He started pounding on them, getting us to spin faster around the flame. Then he placed them above his head and lunged them into the fire. That’s when Wills and Adam took a back seat to the ritual of intensification and tried to settle us down.
I wasn’t having it though but decided to take a break to fill up my drink. Somehow it was empty. I use everything in my way to the kitchen from the fire as a crutch. I hold onto the picnic table while I pass it to get to the deck. I use the wooden stairs as a leverage, the door as a rope until I am finally into the trailer. I pour another third into the cup and fill it the rest with Mountain Dew. I check my phone, a Blackberry Pearl. The one Jackie got me for my birthday because my previous phone was shattered to pieces and I couldn’t text or call anyone. I look at them, knowing that I would get a pleasant reply from my last text. My adoration for her, my acceptance of our use of emotional twine to hold us together but what I get is not what I even remotely expected. Well to tell you the truth I don’t remember exactly what she said but I remember it had to do with being disrespected and how being drunk wasn’t the right time do things like that. I was crushed, instantly. I think I dropped the phone but I could of threw it. Some times you think you want to say those words “I love you” because the receiving party wants to actually hear it. It is an easy ice breaker but I don’t do things because I am supposed to. I missed her severely. I have been camping for 4 days now and was heading home tomorrow afternoon while she was going camping and she was going to be gone for another 5 days. I don’t think being drunk helped my predicament but I needed to sacrifice some more personal artifacts to the god of fire.
I felt fine now. Yes I was drunk but the realization of someone being pissed at your for an act of genuine kindness. It not only hurts but it also puts you in the mindset that you are inherently dumb. I haven’t said “I love you” to anyone in at least a decade. The last time I said it to my mother was when I was 6. I could of muttered it to someone after that but I can hardly recall. I sit down in my seat and everyone is just wondering when the other 4 will show up. I am shirtless and feeling pretty weightless as well and uncomfortable. My teal pants were restricting my skin from breathing. My blood was being constricted and needed to pump out the anger. I unzipped my pants, whipped them around my head and watched them sail into the fire. 60 bucks down the drain. Danny saw my offer and decided to raise it. He got up and pulled his guitar case over. He plucked the hinges off the case and pulled out his guitar and played a little tune before rocking it into the fire gently. Adam and Wills quickly realized this being a terrible, regrettable drunken mistake and pulled it out of the fire. I won and the gods let me keep Jackie.
But the night kept on going and it was hardly time to go to sleep. I had faith in my offerings but I lost touch with myself. I was in between knowing what I did was right and then doubting the righteousness of my actions. So I drank some more in my boxers and sandals and admired the fire. While everyone was packing it in and hitting the hay, I just kept watching and thinking. Did I do it because I loved her or did I do it because I needed to? My past has left me in a state of discredit. I need to find evidence to my downfalls during relationships but I could never. I find myself laying in between confidence and hesitation every step in the process of love.
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