The Last Night

by mandaceehb

The last night is when everything happens. Secrets come tumbling out of brazen lips loosened by the cover of darkness, taut drawstrings coming undone as we sit in a moonlit circle from which we swear by our tongues that nothing will leave. We make wild promises laced with alcohol to stay up all night partying only to fall asleep at 3 in a heap of messy bodies and smeared eyeliner. We confide in people we’ve known forever but barely even know, indulge in heartfelt conversations with strangers who would no sooner gulp down their steaming cups of coffee than hear us speak our troubles. But tonight is different. Tonight they will listen, if just for tonight.

Somehow we have the whole time, but we only save the last night- this precious slot- for creating the most meaningful memories or making the most fucked up decisions that we will live to regret. Perhaps this is the last moment we can live in, the last sliver of time for us to convince ourselves that this dream is reality. The claws of the truth are already sinking in.

So we will scream with head and hands out the car, cheeks cold against the wind, sentences a blur of noisy traffic and raucous laughter and stinging eyes and tears. The lights are red and blue and yellow and the world is zooming by and catching in our eyes; the city is ours tonight.

Tomorrow morning we will wake up, eyes encrusted with stars, dreaming about the recent past. But in this moment, we are free.

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