Lemonade, Midnight, No Regrets

February ninth. At some point in the evening, I genuinely cannot tell you what time, Simone and I stopped talking about anything practical and started talking about Beyoncé. I want to say there was a clear reason. A song came on, maybe, or someone mentioned something they'd read, and then, three hours later, there we were, both sunk into opposite ends of the couch with cold mugs in front of us and a completely unresolved argument about which track on Lemonade is the one that actually gets you. Not the obvious answer. The real one.

The thing about that album is that it does something I can't fully explain in words, which is probably why Simone and I kept trying. She had her argument and I had mine and neither of us was wrong and that was somehow the most frustrating possible outcome. We watched the same live clip twice. We pulled up articles on our phones and then didn't read them because talking was more interesting. The outdoor bouldering post from January is still the most physically honest thing I've written in months, but this evening was its own kind of honest, the kind that happens when you're not trying to be.

the exact moment Simone proved her point and Elena couldn't even argue

I think the Lemonade conversation is probably a once-a-year conversation. You have to let it breathe between visits or it loses something. But February felt exactly right for it, the middle of winter, nowhere pressing to be, the window completely dark. Simone left around midnight, and I sat on the couch for another twenty minutes doing absolutely nothing, which I think is the most you can hope for after a good argument that wasn't really an argument.

okay but watch this part again

Happy to reopen the debate in the comments if anyone wants to make a case. I already know what I think but I have been wrong before.