Friday night is one of those nights that I will remember for a long time. Its stuck in my brain for good reasons, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is about it that was so... warm.
Bungay was covered in a layer of snow deep enough to warrant a hilarious snowball fight between myself, Ben, Luke and Dukie as we walked home from the pub sometime between 12 and 1am. We'd all had a fair few, had some good chats with the people we usually see at the pub, and as we walked home we replaced chat with snowballs to faces and Ben and Luke decided to ambush Dukie at one point, I think whilst he was trying to take a piss, and it ended in us all being wet and cold as we entered Ben's house. We hung all our wet garments around the kitchen and had a morgan's spiced and pepsi, and then Dukie went home. After struggling to find an extra blanket, Ben went to bed and me and Luke went up to the 'spare room', what used to be Louise's bedroom first, then she swapped with Alex, and now Alex has moved out it is empty but for boxes of storage crap, christmas decorations and random things that don't have a home. Louise's bed, unfortunately not that same one she had when I used to have sleepovers with her, is a double, but was kitted out with a single duvet, hence I needed an extra blanket. Luke had intentions of star-fishing all night, but I bagsied myself a me-shaped space and we both laid there, in our own blankets of warmth, still a bit drunk, and chatted shit for about an hour or so (one of those excellent chats which goes down in the list of 'memorable drunk chats' alongside trampoline-chat with Arthur), before eventually falling asleep.
Sometimes I can wake up where ever I am and go about my day normally, but most of the time, if I've slept somewhere unexpected, have make-up from yesterday smeared down my face, my throat tastes like alcohol, and I'm hearing the deep snores of a male in the same bed as me, my day will be pretty shitty. But not this day. The snow on the window meant there was little light coming through, and the trap door was shut, blocking the sound of the screaming two year old downstairs. We came too; Luke text his girlfriend, facebooked his friend about sledging possibilities, and I remembered I had to go home and watch the last two episodes of Fringe (ever!). Laying there, in the morning glow, something bizarre dawned on me: I'd never realised how good friends I was, how close I was, with Luke before. All those random nights out we've had together have amalgamated into this casual friendship which involves him shoving me to the farthest edge of the bed and bringing up the "you owe me a hand-job" joke. I ventured out of the blanket to relieve my desperate bladder and get some pints of water, and as I got back under my nicotine-scented blanket, kept warm by Luke star-fishing again, we both fell back asleep, and as I woke up for the second time I realised how nice it felt to be waking up in this house. To hear the sound of Charlie and Louise as they made pancakes in the kitchen, and the sound of Sue drying her hair, and then the slow sound of Ben having some breakfast too. And I was laying next to a guy I have known for almost a decade, we used to work together, we always get drunk and joke around (and on this occasion, I laughed so hard I dribbled water all down myself), and apart from his nasal issues we had had a peaceful night's sleep. And I had to go home and kill eight hours before heading to work: not knowing how to spend eight hours in your own home, compared to enjoying an evening of drinks and a night of laughter and sleep in someone else's home, is a weird juxtaposition. I didn't want to leave that room. I didn't want to have to get dressed into my many layers of clothes to face the snow. I wanted to be able to stay in that house, with those people, and all the warmth and happiness, laughter and relaxation all day long.
But we had to leave. I just hope that the next time we all get drunk and crash at Ben's isn't too far away, because its truly my happiest place.