Wendy House

Ahhhhh! Ahhh, is for AWESOME!

I had THE BEST TIME I have *ever* had on a night out, ever, in my life, on Saturday. It was super-fun. It was mad-groovy. It was crazy-exciting.

It was ninja.

I had such a good time, I danced. I sang. I put on the Ritz, I shook my groove thing, I tripped the light fantastic, I *spoke* in a roomful of people, at a louder-than-average volume. I met more than a dozen new individuals, and I liked, oh, easily half of them, from the bottom of my exacting, prejudicial, sometimes contemptuous heart. I was surrounded by fun, I was inundated with joy, I was flying through the air, I was beside myself not because I was unhappy, but because I was *so* happy, one me could not contain it, and I just split in two, right there on (ah, fake names??) Dexter and Lillian's couch. I was drunk, drugged, high on life, and if anything had gotten any better, I'd have spontaneously combusted then and there.

I think, on the inside of me, something did. Only a little of me, just the barest sliver of my heart, just the most meagre portion of my metaphysical self, was set on fire Saturday just gone; and it has been so long since I've felt that kind of flame, since I've been without the bit of oxygen it takes to keep such a spark going, I'm still dizzied by it. I haven't felt like this in such an incredibly long time, I thought I'd forgotten how to feel this way... I'm not sure I've ever felt this way.

I'm in love, yes; but I'm in love with a group of people, a lifestyle, a situation, as much as I'm in love with one man, and it makes all the difference. This, this, this kind of love, has taken the air from my lungs, and transformed it into wind for my sails.

I never want to get my breath back.