You want to say it started tonight
Standing in a brightly-lit gallery
surrounded on all sides by flower-covered animal bones.
You want to claim that your passion for the art
this shared enthusiasm is what began it all...
(It's a lie.)
Still, even if you know it has been going on longer
(Quite a bit longer)--
you know that this is that critical turning point.
The moment when your flight of fancy solidifies,
when it becomes real in your mind and you must face it.
So.
It may not have started tonight.
But it certainly took you until tonight to catch on.
It took a mutual love for wine and paintings,
dinner and religion in a tiny cramped diner,
and round after round of karaoke.
(It also took shot after shot of tequila,
warm shoulders, and wide grins,
but don't get carried away.)
Alcohol is funny that way.
Turns everything golden around the edges,
and smooths away sharp corners.
By the time you've realized the danger
you're too far gone to panic.
