We got rather shit-faced last night.
And I won't censor it because we're not censored people. But we were in the city, and got shit-faced, and found ourselves at this tiny little venue, with this tiny unknown band, and at 2am we were singing along to songs we didn't know but made up the lyrics for, and a couple hundred strangers who soon were our best friends.
And during the middle of this one song, I pause, turn to you, and I ask- "what is love?"
This honest to god is just about the only particular moment of the night I fully remember, because for one sweet moment it felt like the wind was knocked out of me, but a breath was put in me, all at the same time, and I could pretty much hear my heartbeat over the thumping bass that was pounding off the walls, and really, the sentence escaped through the cracks of my teeth all together. I almost cringed as it left my mouth, too, because neither of us have defined love, or fully care to admit we even believe in it.
Almost without hesitation, though, you got that little look you get when you're about to either say the most brilliant of hypotheses, or the most awful of puns- it's never an in between with you- and just say: "A lightening storm, because it's so, so beautiful, but scares the shit almost out of everyone, and only strikes a few that live to tell about it."
I didn't say a word, because how was I to respond, and you quickly yelled 'and you can tattoo that on your ass!' before continuing to jump up and down like some sort of a Mexican jumping bean, despite the fact you're 50% Australian, 50% New Yorker, and 1% me.
And regardless of all the shots and rounds and questionable smoke drifting through the air, I remember that moment, because you were wrong.
In that moment I realized what love is- you.