One week later and I think I am still coming off the girlfriend high that my time with J provided.
It was great, just as we both knew it would be.
Whenever we get together, there are elements of myself that I get to revisit. Elements that God only knows I could not keep up with all the time, but good to reconnect with; stop by for a visit and say, “Yeah, I remember you...”
Two friends getting ready together, laughing, music in the background as we help each other decide what to wear and declare unequivocally “your hair/ makeup/ outfit looks amazing”. Leaving to go out at 9:00 instead of thinking "Whew! The kids are in bed, almost time to call it a night myself." Blasting great songs while driving with the windows down and singing at the top of our lungs. Staying up until 4 am- and not because someone under the age of 10 was throwing up or having nightmares, but because we were having so much fun we lost track of time.
But during the time she was here, there was an added element that I didn’t count on. It was the fact that she was staying at my house. I was showing her the city that I now call home, and I knew some places to go- cool, edgy, places. Places where the popular kids go. It hit me a few times of how far I have come in the past 3 months- 3 months!- and it really filled me with a sense of pride.
But the true heart of the matter is that it reminded me that there are just those times in life when you need to be young again, regardless of what age you really are. Time to stop being responsible- just for a weekend- and live without a plan. Without carrying fruit snacks or extra napkins in your purse- just in case. Time to notice and appreciate how your calves look in a pair of platform pumps. Time to learn that you can still make heads turn. Time to remind you that you can fill your friend’s soul just as they do yours.
Time to prove to no one other than yourself that through it all, you still got it.
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