Of course it had to rain today! I hate it when nature plays this ugly trick it does by tuning in to my inner most feelings. Well, I might be exaggerating a little: it’s not actually mirroring them or there’d be a major thunderstorm and the river would probably wash away the bridges and flood the marketplace.
This time it’s strange being a straanger in a foreign town; it usually isn’t, but right now I feel that everybody is constantly looking at me. Although my heart is filled with hope, it’s still somewhat heavy. There’s this weight I’m moving around every time I breathe in and out.
These streets that smiled to me when I got here, alight with happy faces and exquisite decorations, seem to shun me. I walk the narrow bridges and somehow see you walking by, just around the corner. I run towards you and, just as I turn, you’re gone … in the blink of an eye. I’m not even sure you were ever really there. Perhaps it’s all been in my head. The city is so mellow. It’s probably just me. Everyone else seems to be happy. I just wish they’d stop staring at me. I might have even passed you by on the street a couple of times and I probably will again. There’s only so many streets.
Time seems to stand still now, although, for the past days it seemed to travel at the speed of light. I feel like a walking cliché, standing here in a café, killing time before my plane leaves, with my technology, cigarettes and glass of wine. I keep looking at my phone. I don’t even know what I’m looking at it for. Besides, I can’t even say I didn’t know this time would come. It was only logical. A logical conclusion to a very illogical series of decisions and a very unlikely series of events. Still, it doesn’t feel wrong on any level. I suppose I can take some solace in this and in the fact that I knew this was the only acceptable way for events to play out. Any one of the other possible outcomes would have carried with it a lot of unanswered questions and a lot of unwanted complications.
Of course it rains! The seagulls seem to have decided not to take part in this though. They’re relentless, like the river rushing by. There’s a strange pairing of images here with the river, the gulls, the bridges, the market and the rain. It all feels surreal. Images and words. That’s about all I’ve ever had. Images, songs and words to make people see, to make them understand. Yet it’s strange that all I carry with me are feelings – strong, complex emotions that shape me and provide context, purpose, drive … confusion that somehow, by some strange feat, leads to clarity. I could really use a piece of that clarity now. Like the song in my headphones – connected to the phone I keep looking at – says, I got half a mind to scream out-loud.
And then there’s the airports! I find comfort in airports. I feel very much at home when I’m between places. I guess it’s always been about the prospect of “what’s next”. I don’t really know. Trouble is that I can hardly ever forget anything. This, unfortunately, brings on a series of complications. I can still remember the texture of your skin, the smell of your hair, the look in your eyes and the feel of your embrace. That smile, the way your face lights up in happy surprise and the way your eyes childishly wither when in conflict. Of course they’re all still very near to me, but, if history is any teacher at all, they’ll still be near to me when I’m eighty.
There I go again looking at the phone.
Still there are airports ahead. I should be feeling quite happy. Yet the river is swelling, the bridges are still standing and the market is still abuzz with festive atmosphere. All in all, I guess it’s been a good couple of days. And perhaps the best is yet to come … and, babe won’t, it be fine?
