last night was

we went to our favorite part of town, streets like magnolia avenue lined up and down with brick houses we wish we shared. i can hardly believe that the christmas lights and wreaths are already up. the wind off the lake has just turned cold and i am still waiting for the first snow like an impatient child.
we ate at a persian restaurant with 4 floors, walls lined with windows and mirrors. downstairs was an engagement party, families laughing and dancing to a band with a fiddle and an accordian. their faces were red with wine and i watched them jealously, wanting to join and dance and forget about the world outside.
he ordered sangria and i ordered lamb. we shared a basket of pita bread, ate like heathens, wiping our faces, spilling crumbs in our laps, wiping our bowls of soup clean.
we left and bought irish cream and a bottle of wine to take home. we got coffee at the corner bakery, spiking it with the irish cream to keep our bodies warm. we chased after the 22 clark bus, catching it just in time. on the way home, we drank in the backseat, giggling and making everyone around us uncomfortable. we took turns asking each other "who would you marry, fuck or kill: fellini, truffaut, or bergman? based purely on talent." "how about kerouac, hemingway, or henry miller?" "marry, fuck, or kill: anita ekberg, marilyn monroe, jayne mansfield?" i was surprised when our answers matched. i thought it was a sign.
when we got to my apartment, i opened the wine and started drinking. he asked me questions because he knew i would be honest. and i was. i said things i never would if i had been sober. and somehow it made me love him more.
we laid on the bed beside each other, me in my corset, him in his boxers. we kissed and began to make love but i was too drunk to have sex. i started to feel like i would fall asleep and i was saying things i can't remember. my words seemed angry, i don't remember their shape, only the way they felt coming out. we got into a fight, he jumped up, he yelled, i yelled back. he told me to be quiet, that the neighbors could hear. he went to lay on the couch and i was left alone in the bed. i began to cry. i stumbled to the bathroom, felt myself getting sick. and i did.
when i was finished, i heard him knocking on the door. he helped me clean myself, brought me water, and told me to brush my teeth. he apologized and held me on the couch till i felt i could fall asleep right there. we moved to the bed again and right as i was falling asleep, he asked me "marry, fuck or kill..." but i don't remember the people he listed or anything else because i fell into dreams of a night that ended better.
i hope i gave him a good birthday.