we take what we want when we need.

The smell of cigarettes and cologne linger in the air, as we speed up northbound 127, exit onto Grand River Ave. and hang a quick left onto a darkened side street. My anxiety level is at an all-time high as my brain desperately searches the not-so familiar surroundings for some sort of sign, clarifying just where we were. Inevitably, I come up with nothing and sink back into the comfort of the passenger seat with a defeated sigh. He catches this, of course, he always does.

“We’re almost there. Just relax.”

“Fuck off, I know.”

That produces the infamous smirk, the one that I love. The one that flashes across my mind every time something happens in my life that I know he would appreciate, or, completely disapprove of.

I really, really miss that.

Before I know it, we pull into the parking garage. The big, orange, tunnel-looking one that’s been deemed the “gerbil cage” for as long as I can remember and when I get out of the car, I’m immediately assaulted with the stench of cigarettes, piss, vomit and old booze. I actually smile at that as I reach back into the car to grab my purse and jean jacket, recalling all the times I personally contributed to the demeaning of the structure and mourned the complete loss of my dignity while doing so.

It seems like a lifetime ago.

Emerging out onto the street, I’m visually stunned at the sight. It’s Welcome Week, something that I’m still to this day all too familiar with. There are girls in groups teetering down the street in their sky high heels and super short, super tight dresses with hair and makeup done to perfection. There are guys in their jeans and button-ups or fitted t-shirts, dress shoes or sneakers. I used to be one of those people, stumbling around bleary eyed and slurring my words. When suddenly, I feel completely self-conscious. Standing there in my blue and white knit jersey dress, cardigan, jacket and Huaraches; I'm completely out of my element. Simple. I've removed myself from the chaos and entered a life where simplicity rules. This is no longer the city I know. The hand that settles in the small of my back, gently leading, jolts me back to reality and pushes the ever growing lump of insecurity to the back of my mind.

While walking, I think I spot a few flannel shirts in the mass of people traipsing to and from the bars. It makes me smile. That's more like it. My eyes fly over to Mr. Ricks, then The Landshark and finally settle on Harpers. I used to be able to list them without even thinking. The big cracks in the pavement out front taunt me from afar as I reach up to brush back my bangs and my hand lingers on the small scar proudly displayed on my forehead thanks to a drunken fall in that exact spot years ago. I didn't have bangs then and it was a bloody mess. Oh, memories.

“You know, they just opened up a new club underneath Harpers.” He said.

“Oh really? What’s it like? Have you been?”

“I hear it’s the place to go if you want to pick up a cougar…”

“Fuck, really?”

We arrive at the hookah lounge, which has always been more of our scene anyways. It’s busy and as I assess the crowd, I realize that we’re probably the oldest people in the place. The kids that either have no interest in drinking, or haven’t found a fake ID yet congregate here to fill their lungs with the thick, sweet, smoke in their flavor of choice in this darkened room where whispered conversations and secrets are exchanged between every inhale and exhale, while the music that I'm shocked to realize they play provides the perfect background accompaniment.

I’m comfortable here. I’m safe here.

Suddenly, our first round appears out of nowhere. It’s as if nothing has changed, our order is still the same. I can breathe easier.

The first inhale goes straight to my head. The tangy, fruity taste starts to build a home in my nose and throat just as I exhale and the billow of smoke that comes pouring out of my mouth is both impressive and astounding at the same time.

I haven’t lost my touch.

It feels good.

We sink back into the couch and fill the gaps in conversation with deep inhales and strong exhales. I crave normalcy, and he knows it. I know he's giving it because if he doesn't, I'll shatter and crumble and he knows better than to leave me like that. The line is too precarious, the stakes are too high. We can read each other way too well. He tries to teach me how to blow smoke rings for the millionth time even though we both know I'm beyond a lost cause at this point.

“It’s not that hard. You just fill your mouth up, shape your lips like this, and blow it out.”

“…THAT’S WHAT SHE, I MEAN HE, SAID”

“You’re completely insufferable at times, you know.”

The seconds pass, and minutes tick by like nothing has changed. I sink in closer to him and shut my eyes, willing for time to stand still for just a minute since it’s the first time in days where it feels like my heart’s right. His arm slips around me and I feel the lightest of squeezes, encouragement. In that moment, it becomes too much and I can't bear it. The tears slip out from beneath my closed eyes and before I can open them, I hear it. Softly, mumbled.

"It's okay, you know. It's okay to let go of this place because it was never your home. It was never you. It's okay."

"I'm scared to let go completely because I'm afraid that if I do, I'll lose the good memories attached to them. I can't do that."

"They'll never be forgotten because you always carry it all in your heart. Always."

As we got up to leave, I shrugged back into my jacket to prepare for the inevitable blast of cold to permeate my body, attempting to refreeze what just took hours to thaw out. Such is my life, I suppose.

One foot out the door, and I fall. Cracks in the sidewalk I could have sworn were never there before. I grab his arm but it's too late, the evidence is already starting to show in the form of skinned knees which will most likely transition into bruises overnight.

I call from the ground laughing, "At least it's not my head this time!" as he picks me up, smooths my hair and links our arms as one. The dynamic duo.

"Babe, you really have changed." he states matter-of-factly as we make our way back to the car, slowly maneuvering through the now deserted streets. "Did you honestly expect me not to notice?"

"Of course you're the first one to notice, B. Even from a world away, you always do."