Northport, Alabama

If I were more sober, I could probably write something profound, but a pair of margaritas and a bottle of Lambrusco has a way of clouding the senses a bit. That’s okay. I do this so seldom that I guess I can afford to be a little off-kilter for one evening.

Sarah flew into town last night and she, Sparrow, Nicholas and I went out with some of Sparrow’s Italian friends. I can’t believe I studied three languages and somehow skipped Italian. It was nice to just relax and be with friends, sit outside and enjoy a hot summer night without worrying what tomorrow may bring.

As I listened to their chatter, I wondered what bonds us together beyond the newspaper where we all worked.

I am older, more serious, more reserved. It’s funny to them when I drink a little too much, lose my mentor tone and become 16 again. Truth be told, I didn’t do those kinds of things when I was 16. I didn’t drink alcohol until I was the legal age to do so, didn’t cut curfew, didn’t skip school, didn’t break any rules, spoken or unspoken. My high school guidance counselor predicted that I would be wild in college, but I wasn’t. If anything, college unleashed an 18-year backlash of depression that threatened to suck me under, repressed any joy I might have discovered in my new-found freedom.

As I looked around the table tonight at all the young, twenty-somethings who chose my company when they might have just as easily picked someone younger, more fun, less uptight, I felt an odd sense of contentment. In many ways, I feel so much older than my friends. Always have. I have seen things, lived through things, that most people can’t even imagine. But I still have so much to learn. Things I should have learned when I was 16, 21.

Tonight, my friends continue their evening at the bars and I sit at my desk, polishing off a bottle of wine alone. And yeah, I guess I am a little nostalgic.

I wish sometimes that my life could have been different, that I could have taken a little more time growing up. But every once in a while, on a night like tonight, I get to live vicariously through the lives of my friends who will never see what I have seen but know more than I can ever begin to fathom. They envy my life, never realizing that I envy theirs. And 20 years from now, I suspect we will all remember this night and smile.

Music of the day: Red, Red Wine by UB40 (lyrics)

Posted on May 29, 2005 by Carmen K. Sisson tagged Alabama, drinks, food, Northport, writing