rain, heels, Simon and a $58 moet

friday night was just like that wet night, our last in paris.
i hung onto Simon's arm, half-heartedly walking next
to him under his umbrella, when the rain was flying
down next to me. i could have
reached out
and touched it.

we walked from a hotel to a restaurant, the girls
tapping along the pavement in heels. mine were black.
i remember laughing as i leaped over puddles and
Simon held me so i didn't trip, my heels being so unstable.

i got bored and darted out into the rain, getting soaked and
running my fingers under my eyes in case gothic oil had escaped.
the chemicals of my make-up merged beneath droplets of
parisian water. my ponytail was drenched. i flicked it
and listened to the snapping sound and felt the coldness on my neck.
this night in december, it reeled with rain as we walked
to a french restaurant in crows' nest. this time
there was no boy beside me holding me tightly under
the aggravating shelter of his umbrella.
i had no umbrella.
i had my black heels on.
i had bare arms.
i hugged myself this time, as the icy wind and rain
whipped against my skin. and we searched for the place
for an age. i couldn't have been happier, walking
the dripping streets, freezing, with someone
i'm most comfortable with.
that night (and laugh at me) i got a little tipsy on $58 moet
champagne (the waiter didn't want to bring me a glass).
i ate snails and reminisced about the bestdaysofmylife,
in a parisian whirlwind, where i lost my escargot
virginity, being coaxed into it. they were delicious.
the late-night drive home saw me being louder than usual,
my system not used to expensive alcohol. i only had two point five glasses.
we all laughed, her, him, me, him, it was like a sensible,
innocent page of fun torn out of someone else's journal.

two nights whispering to each other under skies giving birth to rain.
written: Sunday 12th December 2004, 5:32pm.