Please note: sister of DonkeyFire has mocked the second person voice of this blog, albeit in passing. As both proof of adaptability and as a challenge while intoxicated, DonkeyFire will briefly appear in a new tense.
DonkeyFire left the house; too early as it turned out. Lesson learnt: consult both husband and wife before committing to a meeting time and place.
Second time’s a charm: we meet on schedule, and DonkeyFire makes an entrance. Gin and tonics, pony beers and small talk; this evening is so far on track. We giggle, we reminisce, and we predict the future (marriage is in the air, on multiple fronts) and we move on to dinner.
Dinner happens. Hiccups and laughter dominate. By any measurement metric, good times. We move on.
Mesh: Espresso Martinis (probably fueling this blog). Then we head to a rooftop.
A strong feeling takes over: DonkeyFire no longer wants to exist alone. Sure, there is fun to be had, but more exists: there can be more to every encounter. Every moment is lonely, even when filled with loved ones and friends. A short conversation, a moment in passing: the message is clear, and the want is strong. What will be will be. And she will be, because she is all that matters.
DonkeyFire leaves the bar, despite the protests and the party still going. DonkeyFire wants to be closer, even if that means being alone at home while she does the same. She is asleep. And so shall DonkeyFire be (damn third person).
DonkeyFire gets home. DonkeyFire thinks, how to fix this?
Time to go back to the 2nd person.