November 7, 2016
Diego,
One night after work I said, "I don't feel like going home," which led us on an impromptu trip to a liquor store near downtown. We decided on a bottle of Jose Cuervo pre-mixed margaritas, purchased a small pack of blue solo cups, and parked in an empty lot at Centennial Park.
We stayed until a cop started circling nearby. It must've been after midnight.
I was drinking for so many reasons in 2013. A few months after this night, you'd find me sitting in my closet crying because I suddenly missed all of the people who vanished after college, because I couldn't afford the rent in my flea infested apartment, and because, "I thought I'd be married by now."
There was no one more fun to drink with than you, though, and drinking would be the second best thing we did together.
"Why do you want me to drink with you?" I've asked many times.
"Because you're cute when you're drunk," or, "Because you're funny when you're drunk," were always the answers.
We pulled away slowly, our bladders screaming from the booze. We stopped at a Shell station to use the bathroom. Written in black sharpie on the door of my stall was a message. It said, "Don't worry. You are loved."
It kind of looked like someone had smeared shit right underneath the L-O-V-E-D.
I haven't had alcohol in a long time now. Can't say that I miss it that much.
Are you bored to death, Dee? Who's dragging you out dancing these days?
-Jules
YOU ARE READING
Hermosa
General FictionHermosa is a study into the perception of a relationship. Throughout the book, you will view Jules' thoughts as she explains her connection to a man named Diego. She will tell someone how they met. She'll journal. She'll write letters to him tha...
