"I want to go out with you on Saturday night and close one bar, then another, then another, until we’re drinking cheap domestic beer from the bottle and dancing to 90's music we know all the words to. I want to see you in the red light of the hallway by the bathroom, in the stringed-up lights of the patio where everyone is smoking, in the soft lights they put on the tables in the back booths. I want to kiss you on a leather sofa in full view of strangers and tell you that I don’t usually get this drunk. I want to walk home with you, even though we should take a cab, even though it’s just a little too cold to not be wearing a jacket. I want to sing and stop to talk on the sidewalk and realize every 20 minutes or so that we still haven’t gotten back to the apartment. When you walk ahead of me, I want to run up behind you and mess up your hair and kiss your neck and tell you how much fun I had, even while I’m still having it. I want one of those Saturday nights that never quite...