sentiments from a balcony in northeast.

saturday night– punch pizza and fireworks with 12 of the city's most eligible gay bachelors. (water, water everywhere....) a few of them my close friends, a few i had met once or twice, a couple i had never met.

i looked around at them as we stood on the 11th floor balcony overlooking the city and the awesome display of fireworks being shot off on the bridge below us. i wondered if perhaps i belonged there; if perhaps my grandma was right, that i need to stop hanging out with unavailable (to me) men all the time and start thinking about settling down. after all, i was the only girl on the balcony. and the only heterosexual.

but then phil looked at me, smiled, handed me the bottle of champagne we were passing back and forth (it's class all the way with us) and said something to the effect of how lucky we were, of what a beautiful night it was, of how amazing the fireworks were from the balcony. on my other side, brent held up his bottle of champagne and we all toasted to the sentiment.

i don't know if i could've loved life more at that moment.