There are moments that take you places you've never been, a friend's basement, or a mountain top, no matter. These are the places no one else has been, and no one else will ever go. It's the pure moment's of uncomplicated perfection.

This is the story of one of those moments...

I once met a beautiful girl, with perfect finger nails. You wouldn't have noticed. Our hands, working together, displayed the obvious contrast between her perfect hands and my calloused, bitten nailed fingers. I have sculpture hands, reflections of the pieces, see that spot of paint, it matches to that part.

I thought, I don't have a chance. Not with these hands, and not with this girl.

Tonight, I thought it was just me, learning how to flirt, or rather to not repulse. It was the sticky drunken morning as we sat together slowly leaning, shoulders touching. "I don't think I've ever been this drunk..." Friends dancing and drinking, hugging and crying, around us. A friendly stranger's house. She lay her head on my lap and it may have been the whisky, but I wanted to touch her, so I did, and she took my hand and just held it, for those fleeting five minutes, I was in the place, that no one has ever been to, and I won't ever experience again. She had to leave at two, and I don't know what's happening, but something will happen, according to laws, something always has to happen.

I was the most honest with myself tonight, than I have ever been in the duration of my existence. It felt so fucking incredible. Doing things, because my instinct tells me that it's the right, my instinct has never felt right, it's always been a bit off. I outed myself (again, maybe the Bacardi and Whisky) to pretty much everyone, because I don't have the strength to fight it anymore. Now it's five in the morning and I really hope that I remember all of this tomorrow, I'm out, I don't care what people think, obviously if I lose someone, they weren't really supposed to be part of me anyway. And I'm okay with that.