“Justin! Justin… wake up! Damnit… why do you always do this when it’s your turn?”

The sound of my name being whispered harshly in the darkness jolts me awake, and I sit straight up in bed.

“Huh? What… what’s wrong?”

“I’ll get it. Just go back to sleep.” The woman beside me mutters angrily as she moves to crawl out of bed.

“No… I got it. I’m sorry.” I smile and kiss her forehead quickly before sliding out of bed.

I make my way into the kitchen, grab a bottle from the fridge, and retreat down the hall, easily navigating the apartment in the dark. If it wasn’t for the wailing coming from the second bedroom, it would be eerily quiet.

I open the door and can’t stop myself from wincing as the sound intensifies.

“It’s alright bud…I’m here, calm down.” I do my best to soothe my son as I lift him from his crib and cradle him against my chest.

I know babies cry, but it’s non fucking stop with this kid.

And maybe it makes me sound like an asshole, but it’s moments like this that make me miss the way things were.

I’m not saying I don’t love my kid or his mother, cause believe me… I really do. I just… miss having little to no responsibilities. I miss going out whenever the hell I felt like it, getting completely hammered with my friends, and doing it all again the next day.

The weird thing is, when I was able to do those things, I wanted to be tied down. I wanted a family and the responsibility, and security that came with it. I guess it’s a ‘grass is greener on the other side’ kinda thing. You always want what you don’t have.

I mean, it’s not like I’m gonna just up and leave Kris or the life we’re building, but if I could have just one day a month to be the guy I was a year ago, it’d be the perfect balance for me.

But, that’s not how this being a grown up thing works.

I’m sure it doesn’t sound like it, but I am happy.

I just… I guess the fact that I’m just a few short months away from being a married man is making me a little nervous.

Trace seems to think it’s cold feet, but seeing as how the most serious relationship he’s ever had is with his dog, his is the last advice I’m gonna listen to.

*******************************

“Lights off. Need advil. Now.” Jules mumbles as she and Cooper practically crawl into the shop.

I’d say it’s a pretty safe bet they were out drinking themselves stupid last night. And where was I, you ask? At home, in bed by ten, and perfectly ok with it.

It’s been eight months since I allowed myself to be that pathetic, has to have a man to be happy, girl. And in these last eight months, I’ve become twice as bitter, twice the man-hater I ever was. So much so, that I’m dangerously close to becoming yet another crazy cat lady, but… I’m not out there getting stepped all over by some man, like most women. So, who’s really the crazy one?

Going out with Jules and Cooper has become one of my least favorite things on the planet. Which is beyond strange, considering how much I used to love it.

I just got tired of the game. You’d go out, sit in a bar for hours and bullshit. Nine times out of ten, some desperate to get laid idiot would approach you, if you went home with him… you would spend days hoping he’d call, and feeling miserable when he didn’t. If you chose to shoot him down, you were left wondering if you’d just rejected the man who could quite possibly be the love of your life.

Yeah, I’ll pass on that, thanks.

Now, I am more than happy to stay home, read a book, get some sleep and come to work the next day to mock the two booze hounds as they stumble in, looking bleary eyed and confused.

Call me a bitch, but that might actually be my favorite part of the day.

“Don’t you two look lovely this morning.”

“Emma… please do not make me stuff you in the trunk of my car for the day.” Cooper smiles sarcastically as he eases onto his usual seat, the top of the back counter. “Just open the store and sell shit. Let me die here in peace.”

Isn’t it nice to know that no matter what happens, some things never change?

Jules and Cooper are those things.

They will forever be 21 years old, ready to party, not worried about the consequences of the morning after. On one hand, it’s a little sad and on the other, it’s completely endearing.

As much as I ridicule them for not growing up, I don’t think I’d ever change them. They’re my obnoxious, completely insane, borderline alcoholic best friends, and I love them dearly.

I may have changed, but I am beyond glad they haven't.