Weekend Rush

I am falling-
My favorite red shoes graze the sidewalk, then gravity becomes me as I am sent forward. In this moment, the memories concocted throughout the weekend flood my eyes, and for a moment, I am experiencing it all over again. I am telling him to slow down, but the policeman's lights are already tracking us. Red and blue, red and blue, red and blue. Lights. My right foot has lost balance and the drain takes advantage of my inebriated state. Then comes the smell of Southern Comfort, vodka cranberry, Keystone, and I could vomit once again. I throw my right hand forward, as my face comes closer to the pavement. Wine tasting and stretch limousines. Cold pizza and pinot noir. Seeing my best friend in love with such an admirable woman, one that I pray I can one day be half as lovely as. My elbow meets the street first, grinding like sandpaper. Being so proud to watch them turn their tassels, on the verge of tears as I see my inspiration. Left knee meets the ground, I am going down. 6 am and we are drinking at the bar, which was just as busy only 4 hours before. San Luis traditions I am grateful to be a part of. Right hip makes its final descent, and is abruptly stopped.. A meeting I know will be coupled by purple and black in days to come. Humbling moments and gratitude of the giving souls surrounding me. Free flowing tears and smiles on the steps outside your home.

I am back. As my eyes open and I start to sit up, the ones by my side rush to see if my broken body is okay. Adrenaline prevents me from crying from the pain, but my heart breaks as I watch my favorite bracelet of beads snap. One by one, each sandalwood bead heads toward the gutter that just took me down. I am filled with more memories, of being 10 years old with these prayer beads, of having Tibetan monks blessing them when I was a kid, of using them every takeoff and landing for the past decade, of the Coptic priest blessing them in the Holy Sepulchre.
I fell.