Clocks

9pm - Another Friday night on the town, another crappy club packed with one hundred intoxicated horny teenagers, another shit DJ who thinks he's a God. Every week, a different pub gets stormed, the locals terrorised and the bar drained. Tonight, suffice to say, is no exception.
The night is young- it's all meet and greets, air kisses, and the impatient girls trying to get a dance going. I'm happy to get the drinks in, sit back, and watch things take their natural course. Five minutes ago, I was in someone's bedroom, polishing off fish and chips with my girlfriends, applying purple eyeliner, smoothing out my plaid minidress and stepping into my Hampstead charity shop heels. Now, I'm being dragged to the dance floor by a girl in a cream dress- 'AWESOME to see you!' she drawls, already reasonably wankered.
Oh well- time to get started, then...


0am- 'Do you know these guys?'
'No. Do you'
'No bloody idea...'
The four guys who were grinding me from all angles finally wander off, leaving me in the arms of my current squeeze. I can pick out almost every face in the crowd- the friends of friends, the casual acquaintances, the old school friends, the old flames...
I see H in the arms of her ex, her face the picture of confusion, wondering whether or not this is the best idea. W, crying into the chest of a boy she doesn't know, hurt once again by her ex. I, leading a stranger outside for a drunken fumble she'll regret in the morning. K, gathering her belongings again, looking wistfully at the boy she attached herself to, as he slides his hands down the back of someone else's knickers. L, fresh from a break up, throwing herself at any and every boy in close proximity.
I see them all, their love lives spanning out into a web of pain and puzzlement. Each web merges into each other, as old flames are passed from mouth to mouth in search of something with meaning. I look at them all, and wonder how their lives got so complicated.
I see S, staring down at me, hands on my ass, and small tipsy smile on his face. I look at him, and wonder how my life got so simple.

1am- Finally, I get him to myself. We go back to my place. He watches me go about my nighttime routine- take my tablets, take off my dress, put my kitsch robot necklace back on the stand, make a cup of tea, drink it. He brushes the hair out of ym face; calls me beautiful. I put down my mug, carefully; slowly. Within five minutes he's in my bed, on his back, kissing me like my lips are strangers to him.

2am- We lie on our sides, hands clasped, completely naked. I see the satisfaction in his eyes. We don't speak; we don't move. We simply breathe, and try to figure out whether or not we're still awake.

3am- 'Do you believe in ghosts?'
We're still naked, his arms around me.
'Guess so. You?'
'Yeh, I guess.'
'Is it strange how sometimes you remind me of me?'
'Not really. We're not similar enough for it to be considered narcissism.'

The next day- I got no sleep. We get on a bus, go somewhere-anywhere-nowhere. We talk food and fantasies and bank robbers with nothing to lose. I can feel sleep is near, so I nuzzle against that cinnamon, tangerine, ash and soap scented neck.
I'm still wondering how life got this simple, right up until the moment my eyes close.