I will never say what you want to hear

January 2, 2011

new year’s eve was insane. insane. started off at nine in the evening at a roof party with some of my closest friends, finished at eight thirty in the morning in wan chai and the compulsory last shot of jagermeister. and a lot of other things before it. but all of the drinking wasn’t really the point of the night. I met a few new people, this one guy. half italian, half greek. perfect fucking combination. I hung out with people that I had been trying to avoid for four years. listened to crappy and good music, lit candles around the swimming pool, danced, laughed, smiled, cracked jokes. but there was one very low moment, for about forty five minutes at around two in the morning. I decided to check my phone; twelve missed calls and four disturbing messages from the australian.

I cried, tears rolled down my cheeks, my friends had never seen me cry before. it was horrible in a way. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was having fun. flirting, joking, laughing. everything was amazing. I simply collapsed. but then the half greek, half italian boy came back, saw me all disturbed with make up running down my face, I tried to make a joke, in hopes he wouldn’t hate me for this. I felt like an idiot. but instead he just came over and hugged me. one of the strongest and greatest hugs. it pulled me together and I will never forget it. we spend the next few hours talking about our lives, I told him everything I’d been wanting to say for weeks. he told me his story, said he needs my help. I was talking to a complete stranger and it felt more natural and secure than talking to people I trust. in fact, maybe I realized, I trusted him more than I ever did anyone else. perhaps because of that hug. we kissed, but it didn’t mean anything. we’d had too much to drink and the whole night was unintentionally emotional. I hated the drama, I apologized to him. he just smiled and watched the drunken masses below us. it’s strange the way I meet people sometimes.

at around four people started moving on, leaving, going home, or somewhere else. a friend of mine called me up, we met for a drink at a bar across the street. the laguna. I hate that club, but I went there anyway. I didn’t care really. we talked just the way we always do. there’s a mutual understanding between us and it works even at five in the morning. but I didn’t need anything else, really. eventually we moved on, went back outside, the drunken masses were still on the street, we walked past people, some of the throwing up, some of them having shots, others just drinking standing on the side walk, sometimes in the middle of the road. music roaring from all corners. I loved the chaos, I’ve always loved it. we run into our group again, had a couple of drinks with them. eventually, we just stood in front of amazonia, drinking, talking, laughing. a guy from switzerland asked me for a lighter, we spent the rest of the morning talking, by the time we separated it was eight thirty. I looked up, the sky was bright. streets more or less deserted.

my friend took me under the arm, bought chocolate in the nearest seven eleven because that’s what I needed and took me home. we took the short cut, laughed at the fact I am still able to remember it. I fell asleep with my clothes on, with my phone in my hand, buzzing every few seconds. but I ignored it.

happy new year, bitches.