Blankets.

[ashshields]

I wrote this a month or so ago, entirely off the top of my head. It's non-fiction, I suppose. I started to rewrite it into a longer story, but never finished.

Blankets

Blankets. Thick, heavy blankets. That’s the first thing that comes to mind whenever I think about that weekend. I’m holding those memories so close, and they’re the only thing pulling me through, as simple as they are. The cold nights, those blankets curled around each one of us, sipping from one cup of sugar, water, and vodka, playing Grand Theft Auto at 2am, the drama contrasted with those mellow moments.

I think that weekend was the first time I realized that there was more than just the romantic kind of love. And when it was just the three of us talking honestly, those heart-to-heart conversations that only really occur when alcohol is involved, it was then that I felt kind of happy. The real happy. The happy where no matter what’s happening or what just happened, you’re still happy. But it was only kind of, because of the nature of the conversation. Those things one discovers about others, which then leads to one discovering things about oneself. I learnt a lot about myself that weekend, things that I’m still coming to grips with, things I’m still not sure I’m happy with. And I made myself realize a lot of things too. My insecurities, mainly.

The point is, all those memories are tied to blankets. Those fantastically thick, warm blankets. And those are memories I will never forget. The jokes, the conversations, the drama, the coffee, the noodles, the vodka, the GTA, the blankets, the 2am, the company, the love that made me realize there was more than one kind, that I love my friends, all of these memories are so close to me. And I’m glad of that. Because that weekend was unique.

And all those memories come flooding back as soon as I wrap a thick, warm, itchy blanket around me.

[onlyaworkingtitle]

I definitely want more of this -- what were you doing this weekend that led up to this 2am drunken talking? What, specifically, was said that revealed so much about your friends and about yourself? What, specifically, made you realize there's more than one kind of love?

You might also describe the blankets more -- at the moment, you only repeat the adjectives "thick," "heavy," and "warm" (with "itchy" added in the last sentence). What are these blankets made of? Wool? Polarfleece? Cashmere? Each of these materials carries symbolic connotations, too, which might be an opportunity for an extended metaphor for your friendships, if you're into that kind of thing.

Thirdly, you use the word "happy" a lot in the second paragraph, and that's a really interesting word. Look up the history of it -- you might be surprised to learn that it originates from the same roots as "happenstance," and that "happy" can also mean "lucky." You might incorporate this into the piece a bit, as it could add a layer of wordplay, but only if you think it works.

Over all, I really like this piece and what you're doing with it, and hope you choose to revise and extend it (and that, if you do, you post that revision and extension here).

[ashshields]

Great, thanks a lot. I'll definitely continue to work on it, and all the advice will be a great help.