Twenty months ago, I said (in near frustration), “Let’s go to popscene this Thursday.”
He picked me up from my apartment. We danced. Eye to eye. Face to face.
I remember so vividly when he bought me a drink and said “no, you can’t bring it to the dance floor.” It was my first time seeing him being serious and putting his foot down.
Afterwards, the air was magical (although it was probably just an average cold San Francisco winter night). It was slightly drizzling and we rushed across the softly lit street to his car. Our ears ringing from leaving the club.
Today, I wondered what would be worse to..leave or to be forgotten. I think it’s the latter.
I am going to a dance partay again today at Popscene with a friend. A female friend, since he is working late today.