One of the best weeks of my life is over. I really mean that, I felt unbelievably great. I have to remember that the next time I’m having an awful week. I am deliberately storing up as many great details as I can, so that maybe during the next terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day I can look back to those details and I’ll feel great again.

I want to remember

the beach just as it was, temperamental and beautiful. The sun blazing on my skin, the warm sand beneath my toes, the boundless water to dive into, the outrageously blue sky, riding the waves of good feelings, the reflections in the water, the vastness, the freedom, the space.

I want to remember

us, alive, underneath all the magic, and above our heads, the thousands and thousands of stars that flare and glitter and flash in the ink-black night sky. I want to remember the evening breeze and the sounds of the waves as we laid out wrapped in beach towels. Listening to each other breathe, smile, joke, laugh our pants off when Hannah couldn’t figure out who Duck Sauce was. (what a night)

I want to remember

the endless jokes, the innumerable amounts of laughter we all shared, all of us roaring with joy from head to toe.

I want to remember

my old friends and the new ones. I want to remember their smiles. How it was all so deliciously, wonderfully normal to be surrounded by people you just met and yet feel dizzy from the happiness. (note to self: it might of also been all the liquid encouragements).

I want to remember

being treated like a queen in the middle of a time when I felt like a paper cup. The insidious fascination I had over this intoxicatingly funny person. I want to remember his impish smile, the way he monopolizes conversations, his unpredictable remarks. I want to remember his hypnotic accent, and how it reminds me of a song. I want to remember his hugs, and how I seem to fit so precisely under his arms. Most of all, I want to remember feeling surprisingly comfortable around him.

I want to remember

the noisy parties. The fun. The dancing. The loud music. The DJ yelling. The hot gogo dancers. The bottles sparkling. The Champagne glasses. The bubbles tickling. The countless of men demanding numbers, some charming, others much less charming. The attention. My pretty girlfriends and their catch-phrases. The laughing out loud all the time. The silliness.

I want to remember

the kiss. How everything in my entire body went still and hot, then how I opened my eyes and felt a silent starburst.

It was all beyond price!

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