A week or so after dating John, but more than a week after deciding upon trying smoking pot, I asked my brother about it. I'd refused to ever do it in the past, but things change. I certainly had. He gladly agreed, so that night, I smoked for the very first time out of his bong. He said not everyone got high the first time, but I definitely did. It wasn't much, but it was enough to know I was high. It started out with me not being able to control my own smiling, then I started laughing at everything. The T.V? Funny. My phone's vibration? Comical. My own face? Fucking hilarious. Everything then became a joke to me. I told John, but he didn't really seem surprised and didn't show much care. I look so funny, it's kinda cute. I'm kinda cute. I giggled, at what? I don't know. I stared at my dog. What are YOU looking at? I immediately started laughing at my thoughts as my brother sat there watching my first high, continuously laughing at me and my outbreaks of laughter.
"I fucking love you," my brother said as he laughed at me. My reply was contagious laughter, which he caught. I felt as if I had been laughing forever.
"I'm hungry," I said about 25 minutes later. He found this funny and laughed as he put a frozen pizza into the oven.
