Hiding beneath everything that makes me me is a new version of that person; and he has learned a trick that I could never manage to, in all of my years of attempting: the trick of letting go.
Eighteen. No – maybe Nineteen. Intoxicated, naked, and horny. Stumbling in the cold night air as my parts flapped like bird wings attached to soft meat. Laughter filled the air, and our bellies. High on both drink and pills. I never want this night to end.