I think the best way to meet a person is moderately buzzed in the middle of a crowded parade. I can’t think of anyone more fearless and honest than Irish guys, and girls, full of whiskey on St. Patrick’s Day. Maybe there are classier or more outwardly romantic ways to meet a person, but they still wouldn’t be better than this necessarily.
I remember that morning was one of the first days it finally felt like spring and like anything could happen. We drove to Newport with the windows down and I swear you could smell the good things coming. It was the kind of day when you get a parking spot without worrying about it and become best friends for the day with the first people you meet.
That day It was this group of guys with a bottle of green spray paint and I impulsively walked straight up and asked them to be our friends and for their life stories. The one with the huge green beard was my favorite for no particular reason. He just talked in this certain way that made me laugh (he still does) and I remember my hands were freezing so I borrowed his pockets. There were pictures of it that I’ve been trying to get a hold of, but sometimes I realized you don’t need pictures to prove a good thing happened. It’s almost more special and true and real if the only pictures of a moment are the ones in your head.
Sometimes you meet temporary friends like that and it’s all they ever are, other times and this particular time, they become the best people or person you have ever met.
I don’t need to get into the chaos and confusion that kept us in touch with big green beard guy over the next month or so but what mattered was we kept in touch. It was the start of a new era, right at the end of another, and my roommate (who only had a few more weeks of being my roommate) and this guy and I would pile into one of our beds every night and rant about our days and drink my new favorite beer until we passed out.
I thought we were just going to be best friends until I was all angry and upset one night. He apparently told this guy not to kiss me unless he actually liked me, because otherwise it wouldn’t end well (True). And then after a lot of stubborn denials he kissed me himself. I explained that he couldn’t do that if he didn’t actually like me either and he didn’t stop.
You know you kissed the right person when they help you clean the entire house the next morning (at 6am because the plumber is on the way) and you know it’s a good thing when it doesn’t matter what will come of it or where it’s going or about everything changing tomorrow, because none of that would make it any less good.
The good didn’t go anywhere though. I was right about all the things that I could feel coming that almost spring morning in Newport and they were nothing I thought they would be, but were even better. The next few months were the most excitement and comfort I’ve ever felt at the same time.
Comfort isn’t staying in your safe place comfort zone and sitting still, it’s being scared and taking risks and trusting that someone is there looking out for you and isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and it’s someone having your back. It’s when you’re at a crowded party and your eyes meet across a room and you smile at each other and forget all about the small talk conversation you were having with overly friendly drunks or that it was suppose to be your turn in beer pong. Comfort is being half asleep with morning breath and no makeup on and tangled hair and feeling someone cuddling up behind you and kissing your cheek. Those things sound pretty simple and not too exciting, but they are.
Excitement is sitting around or doing chores and it’s cloudy out and you’re not upset, you just don’t have anything to look forward to at the moment and he isn’t supposed to come over and says “I’m on my way” and you get stupid butterflies and smile to yourself and It could be freezing ran outside and the middle of March and summer would feel like minutes away. It’s realizing every good thing is about to be right in front of you. It’s an unexpected massage and a spontaneous movie trip that drives you to put lipstick on for the first time in a while. Its waking up in the morning and realizing how lucky you are and smiling and having a reason to jump out of bed and someone to tell all of your crazy dreams too.
I could feel all of that exciting comfort coming on the second we found a parking spot, the parade, that certain person and some pockets to borrow, and mistook it all for a cool breeze and a buzz from that spiked ice coffee that still hasn’t stopped.