12
Everleigh
My head is pounding.
Fuck.
I must be getting old because I feel like I’ve been on a bender like Nicholas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas. The truth is that I had a few drinks with my best friends last night, but I guess I’m getting to be a lightweight the closer to thirty I get. Everyone tells me how young I am or how young I look. But trust me, 29 is a far cry from 21, and I’m feeling that near decade of difference right now in both temples. I open one eye first, and then the other, as though waking up in stages might make the pain I’m feeling less. It doesn’t work.
Shit, what the hell did I drink? Oh right, I remember now. The shots. All the damn shots.
I’m usually not the type to relive my college days, but being with your best friends on a far off fantasy land trip feels j
