“I could help you make the bed,” Derek
said.
“Or we can all do it,” Wyn suggested.
A few minutes later, the bed was made.
“Thanks for a fun night, guys,” I said.
“This was really great.”
I was a little drunk, and feeling that super
happy feeling you get when you’re drunk and you’ve had an amazing
time. It had been a long time since I had had a social life, and I
was enjoying the feeling. After a few years of isolation, I felt
like I was finally back in civilization. I felt like I was human
again. Talking about my mother’s death with someone who I wasn’t
trying to help deal with it, like my dad or my brother, had given
me the freedom to process my own feelings. All night, it felt like
their attention had been on me. I wanted to thank them, but I
didn’t want to sound stupid. I settled on reaching out and fist
bumping them one at a time.
“Could I get a hug?” Derek asked.
“Sure,” I answered, leaning a little toward
him.
I wasn’t sure how to do this. I usually only