"Mmm, the avocado was extra good today," said Rebekah as she continued on her morning routine.
She grabbed a copy of the New York Times off of the kitchen table, her hot tea, and went straight to the bathroom as she did every morning. I'm pretty sure we all know what came next.
Today she was wearing her new long dress she bought from Anthroplogie, the adult Urban Outfitters. It proved to me that she could be just as girly as me, wearing her unwashed dress the very next day after its purchase. I, too, wanted to wear my new clothes but knew my hands would get far too dirty and the purchase was far too expensive for the risk.
Maybe one day before I left I'd wear the denim shorts I bought. I'm hoping I will.
Houston has been very interesting and fulfilling as it was last year. Though the difference in one year of age has brought many more things into my sight than the last- tasting good wine with good food, it accentuating and highlighting the flavors sloshing around on my tongue. Who knew Indian food would be so delicious with white wine? Who knew I'd fall in love with the Shiner Redbird beer at the oldest building in Houston, a bar called La Carafe, which had a mix of grapefruit and ginger accents. When it touched my tongue and by the time it reached my stomach, I got chills from the bubbly, tangy flavors. I drank it like water, or maybe I was just dehydrated.
I also feel more aware of Rebekah and her changes as well. But still, the ever changing chameleon is still an inspiration, a woman to look up to who isn't knee deep in debt, drugs, or a man.
I'm home now and it feels as it I never left or I have been away for months. I'm reminiscing about late nights in Houston: Cinco De Mayo with a cute punk kid named Cody. Cody had his lip pierced, messy hair, and bright eyes. When he smiled, his whole face lit up. We sat on a hill by the bayou looking into the soul of Houston, the city, the skyline, drinking beer quickly so our bones could loosen and relax. He had a warrant out for his arrest. He had just gotten out of a six year relationship. He was only 24. He loved going to London and squatting with friends there, getting lost in a different country broke as shit. He loved cocaine and ketamine. Acid was far too intense for him, he said. Cody smoked a lot of cigarettes and had a dog that shared my cats name. His house was full of other punk kids that I met as midnight passed and we sat on his bed drinking tall boys. I talked to girls with dyed black hair, boys with gauged septum piercings bigger than the width of my pinky nail. Many had on denim, frayed, studded clothes. Many had tattoos. But each and everyone of them were a delight to meet.
He held my hand when he drunkenly walked me home and kissed my neck goodbye.
I never saw Cody again after that.
Friday the 13th was another memorable night. I found myself on the dance floor at some goth club dancing to 80's music with this beautiful woman, occasionally kissing a boy named Matt who wouldn't stop saying I was too tall. He had blue eyes, the weakness in my knees, and a strong hand that would come from nowhere to grab my neck and kiss my lips. His 5 o'clock aftershave would rub against my upper lip, leaving it tingly and a little raw. I liked the progressive pain it caused. The girl I danced with all night was named Lorna. She was tall and beautiful with pale skin and dark hair. Her boyfriend was also attractive with green eyes and muscular arms. I forgot his name, but he wanted Lorna and I to have a threesome with him. I kissed her and said that should be enough. The night was coming to an end. I thought back to a year ago and the way I sat on the sidelines with Andrew wanting and wishing I could let loose and dance. One year later, I was doing it. It was like magic, like watching a dream come true, indulging and soaking everything in at it's full potential.
I left Numbers that night with Lorna and her boyfriend, driving to their apartment which whereabouts I was unaware of. Drunk and stoned one hour later, they dropped me off at Andrews around three thirty in the morning. I gave Andrew a hug goodnight and crawled into his guest bed, falling, swooning into a drunken deep sleep.
Houston never looked and felt so good, I thought between the sheets.
