This guy’s name is Kevin. He’s the second Kevin I’ve known in the context of dating and sex. It’s dark and I am drunk so I can’t tell what he looks like, but it’s more likely that I am willfully ignoring his appearance because I just don’t care. It’s been 2014 for about an hour and I have promptly kicked off the new year by abandoning my whole life. Earlier this week I attempted to give several close friends something that could be read as closure. I guess it could have been better to vocalize what I was doing.
I think about how I should have conveyed that I was trying to leave this place as I put my arms over Kevin’s shoulders. I look past his face and focus on cluster of balloons hovering behind him. I don’t know how long we have been dancing, but I can feel his erection too soon. I ask if he smokes and he doesn’t, but he eagerly agrees to join me outside. I just want to get out of the bar.
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