Last Friday night: A potent, heady mix of girls in pastel dresses , alcohol-fuelled dancing and meaningful glances while screaming lyrics into each other’s faces. It was what I will call an Ideal Night Out.

Tonight: You and me (and the others), the grass tickling our necks while Amy Winehouse/Coldplay played above our heads. Trying to spot the constellations/Mars in the distance; the hint of a spark. Shouting out Things We Don’t Mean But Not Really before ducking our heads and laughing in embarrassment.

“And in that moment, I swear we were infinite”