Once upon a time at a hotel bar in Santa Monica I met a few middle aged girls belly up and elbows deep in Chardonnay.
You have a mutual favorite movie or show that the two of you can quote down to the last line. Everyone has learned to hate your conversations that exist only between the two of you and are entirely comprised of quotes from said movie. It has basically become your second language.
Don’t sleep alone. Wake up surrounded by friends so you can all get something to eat and talk about the amazing things that just happened.
We talked about nearly everything. We talked about our childhoods, our high schools, and our colleges. We talked about our past and our future.
Your head hurts. Actually, scratch that, your entire existence hurts.