This past weekend, we New Yorkers got our first taste of summer. As temperatures rose, so did we – perched on a rooftop as we soaked in the sunlight. As I’d look around, couples surrounded me in every direction, as if the warm weather brought the city’s lovers out of hiding – making toasts, clinking glasses, and sharing sips. On every sleeve hung a heart, and in each hand a cocktail.
I think what we drink says a lot about who we are. Straight up, stirred, shaken, dirty, neat, with a twist… It’s almost as if these cocktail traits describe the people drinking them – their tastes and their personalities alike. The more I think about this correlation, our poisons of choice say a lot about our hearts too. Perhaps how we drink speaks to how we feel – and maybe liquor and love have more in common than we thought.
When we drink and when we love, we can feel the same things: we can feel buzzed and excited. Adventurous and more fearless than we might normally, as if our inhibitions have melted away like the ice cubes in our cocktails on a warm summer’s night. Whether a glass of wine or a kiss on the lips, a shot of Patron or a quick glance that’s met from across the room, both drinking and being in love can make us feel like we’re losing our minds and going weak in the knees – like the room is spinning and we need to sit down to let our hearts and minds catch up to one another.
But too much of either liquor or love can leave us lightheaded, weak, and nauseous too – so miserable that we want to abandon our sun-kissed rooftops and stay in bed all day, questioning why we ever opened the bottle – or our hearts – in the first place. Whether we’re left in a high or a low or somewhere in between, both acts can lead us to reveal desires, thoughts, questions, truths, and confessions within us that we may not have expected to surface. Both drinking and exposing our hearts might force us to loosen our grasp on things, and both can leave us vulnerable. Whether that vulnerability results in reward or regret, discovery or disappointment, celebration or sorrow, who’s to predict what awaits us on the other side of that kiss or cocktail.
So I wonder – are the drinks and the memories that come with them worth the hangover that might follow? Is the experience of love worth the potential heartbreak that could come later?
From a literal perspective, alcohol and affection don’t have any direct correlation to each other at all. But sometimes, when I try to understand something as complicated as love, it helps to compare a topic so intricate and abstract to something tangible. Perhaps we’ll never be able to comprehend the full depth and capacity of love. Perhaps this conversation itself isn’t about alcohol or affection in the grand scheme of things at all, but rather knowing that life comes with risks – whether it be a hangover or a heartbreak.
When it comes down to it, there are potential dangers and consequences in everything we do. But if we went through life responsibly enough to never encounter a broken heart – or glass – every now and again, we’d live too scared and closed off to feel that perfect buzz or romance.
Of course, this conversation isn’t a call to action to throw all caution to a summer night’s wind, but to find enough balance and confidence to go with the breeze, and trust it’ll take us somewhere worth going. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with being grounded – but maybe we have to kick up our heels and catch some air every now and again to open ourselves up to life’s risks – and even welcome them, just as I’m sure New York’s resident rooftop lovers did at one point or another.
As I reflect on my weekend observations, I don’t know what life has in store for us. I hope we all end up in love, toasting to the chances we took in pursuit of affection. Our hearts may burn in the same way our throats do when we throw back a shot or two – but perhaps we must endure those temporary moments of discomfort to find those things that make us happy later on – the ones that make us smile and dance and grow and feel, more intensely than we knew we could.
Indeed, a drink can lead to a hangover, and being vulnerable can result in heartbreak. But life is too short to live with fear. So let’s toast bravely and love fiercely. Endure the risks we take – and embrace them – and maybe we’ll end up drunk in love on a rooftop somewhere.
