donnaught

i spend more time staring at the dance floor than i do holding up the bar. but when i need to wet my whistle i will de-mesmerize, return to reality, and wind my way to the libations.

it was then that i would see you. standing there, drink in hand, smack in the middle of a 110 degree steamy basement bar. you would be dressed in your corduroy "blazer" (because it has pockets where I put the things I want). i would squeal with delight. then i would wrap my arms around you and give you a fierce hug. you would squeeze me back. we would pick up our typical banter as if it hadn't been 142 days since i'd seen you. in person it was short and sweet. a rib here, a rib there. the ever exchange of hair (or Hair).

then i would return to my usual state. and at some point i would look up and notice that you had slipped away.

now forever.

i will miss your genius humor. 

"I dance more than most people you know. I just don't dance to shitty music. I wasn't born with a fake smile."

i feel certain when i make it to where you are, our pattern won't skip a beat.
though i rather hope you will have lost the ponytail. [grin]