My nights out, my lost endorphins
I completely forgot to write on here yesterday.
I have no idea why it didn’t cross my mind, but it didn’t. It’s normally when it gets dark that’s the trigger for me to sit down and start typing. But yesterday I went out for the first time in a long time (it was still light by the time I left), and so the trigger wasn’t there.
The combination of work over the last few months, my course and me being ill has meant I’ve pretty much been house-bound for the last 2–3 months. I’ve hardly had a drink for the last month, let alone seen people, so it was amazing to actually get out the house last night.
The older I get the more I’ve come to romanticise nights out. It’s so easy to belittle them, but nights shape you. In fact I think in some ways they shape you even more deeply than the day. Because, for most, it’s nights and only nights where it’s acceptable to let your guard down, where you’re allowed to be uninhibited. Only nights offer this gift — the gift of letting you be un-apologetically you among the people that you love the most, among friends, among strangers. Your good, your bad, your worst, your you.
My fondest memories lie in nights out. Nights out are where I’ve been my most vulnerable, my most open, my most free, my most accepting. But they’re also where I’ve been at my worst. The night shows you who you are when everything else is stripped away.
There are just some things about the night I will always adore. There’s something so fucking magical about arriving home on the night bus as the sun’s coming up, about turning up to someones house and singing shit songs with a bunch of strangers, about making new friends, about doing something you shouldn’t, about having the conversations you’ve been meaning to have to clear the air, about laughing — about properly laughing.
There’s something about that feeling of infinity at 3 in the morning when it all hits and you take a look around the room. If you stop you’ll see it in people’s faces.
It’s: We’re here and it’s now.
It’s: We’re okay.
It’s: We’re safe from the day.
I will always cherish the night.