There's a Tattoo of Your Name Across My Soul

[remember that one time I said 'no more weekend warrior-ing'? i lied. am attempting to decide if i at all am considering growing up. survey says no?

these are the nights you fight to remember, the ones that are all hazy memories between the booze and the windy night air. you pick through the images in your head and on your phone, like a detective you reconstruct your happiness and the tilt of your crooked smile.

you watch as your friend and your boyfriend, tongues set in determination between their teeth, carve out the hieroglyphics of your initials on the bar table with their keys.

in the end, you'll ask yourself if the fogginess of the memories makes these nights more or less real. and are there a finite number of these nights, counting down ominously in the shadows of your impending adulthood?

or do you care?

in any case, it's a shame that Rob didn't get in on any of those pictures...but don't worry. he's there, just behind the camera]