nostalgic mess.

The other day, I was sitting in class when all the sudden, I remembered a moment, a snippet of London.

We were walking through the empty streets - it was 2 am. Through a grassy square and down the snaking streets surrounding Kings Cross. I hugged Sammy good-bye and we parted ways. It was just me, Zach, and Emma's boyfriend. On the way home, we passed the British Library and a hospital of sorts and made several wrong turns. We passed a broken bicycle and a soggy couch, left to rot in a dark alleyway. I suggested we just sleep there that night, since it didn't look like we'd ever make it home. I was a little tipsy off of a few shots of vodka and the London nighttime. I thought of Sammy and I rushing down the streets near Hyde Park, ducking under parking lot structures and cafe terraces to avoid the falling rain. She wanted to walk all the way home to Holborn. I told her she was crazy, and as the rain soaked our clothes, she finally gave up. All that time, I never thought of how I might never see those places again. I never thought that after I found my way home, I may never get lost again. That didn't seem to be such a pity at the time.

I crossed my arms for comfort. It was about 60 degrees out and the ground was wet from the week's rain and the smog. We talked about Shakespeare and we spread rumors. We passed infamous drugstores and billboards advertising musicals I would never see, would never want to see. A man on a bicycle slowed down to ask us a question, "Do you know how to get to Oxford Street?" We hesitated. Then we put together an answer and sent him on his way. I think he was drunk because his bike swayed a bit as he took off. I mentioned Fabric. Of course, I did.

Finally, we found a familiar street. Holborn. We were almost there. Just a few more blocks. Zach and I walked through a construction site. Emma's boyfriend walked around it. He made it there before us, but what was the rush, anyway? I had two more nights in London, just two more nights to fill my head with memories of a place I now think of all the time, I place I can't afford to return to for years, a place that my family, that my blood, calls home.