O (Part 1 of 10)

Of course I can’t remember when it began. 

I wandered the streets and had no idea where I was going.  The alleyways and avenues were twisted distortions of places I once knew.  Roads either stretched out to dead ends or all the way to the horizon line where they disappeared forever.  The shops and stores were tilted and in bizarre shapes, their architecture quite impossible yet they presented themselves as friendly and welcoming, the colors vibrant and I do believe there was music playing in the background.  I saw the restaurant and it looked nothing like itself but I knew it was the right place.

There may or may not have been a door at the entrance.  If there was it might have been one of those double swinging doors like the kind often seen in old Westerns.  I found a booth and took a seat.  The walls were blue. 

I would recognize you anywhere.  It starts in waves which are black as coal.  And then there is an angelic white, like bed sheets.  In the center of everything are twin oceans whose color I cannot identify. 

Maybe it started because I needed to come out of the rain.  Did you pretend not to know me at first?  It was playful and heartbreaking.  But there was just the tease of a smile at the corner of your lips and that was enough.  The drinks were strong and you said so very little. 

You told me to come back later.  You spoke in a language I should not have understood but this did not matter.  I asked for a more specific time but you did not give me one.  You said you would let me know. 

I wanted to see you but I promised myself I would not do this anymore.  That promise was a lie, just as I knew it would be.  It’s not a matter of strength of ethics or personal resolve.  Whether or not I possess self control is irrelevant.  My joy and my desire are diseased things that can’t help but intermingle.  They whisper in my ear and the sound is so sweet. 

The phone rang and I ran up the stairs to answer.   I somehow knew it would be your voice yet I felt terrified.  Was it unthinkable the sentiment might be shared?  Are we going to be here for much longer?  Is there a prayer of a chance? 

But it was you and hearing the voice through the phone for the first time was exciting in a way I did not anticipate.  You apologized for calling on my home phone and said you did not have the number for my cell.  I was momentarily confused as I did not remember even having a home phone but I let this confusion pass as it did not ultimately matter. 

“I’m still at the restaurant,” you said. 

My heart accelerated.  I did not say anything.  A word – any word at all – from my mouth would perhaps shatter this fantasy, leaving only the gray and indifferent reality in its wake. 

You continued, “You should come in again.  For a drink.  No one else is here.”

It was not a short drive.  I would speed.  The highway would not have much traffic at this hour.

“I’ll wait,” you said. 

“But…won’t someone care that you’re having drinks with me?” The phrasing of question was undeniably poor, certain words caught in my throat and refused release. 

“Absolutely.  He’ll care very much.  Which is why you’re not going to tell anyone.  I’m certainly not going to tell anyone.”

I don’t remember driving there.  I can recall a single image of the glow of street lights smeared across the sky like it was paint on a canvas.  The sky was a navy blue. 

I entered and you were standing by our booth.  There were two glasses on the table.  There was the same radiance which had been present in our very first encounter, the same which was present in every subsequent moment we’ve shared. 

Everything in a haze.  That we were sitting across from one another and having a conversation was something that never could have happened.  And yet there we were.  The duration of one drink.  Was there a universe created somewhere in that span of time?  Were perhaps billions of lives undone and put back together in new configurations?  Or maybe only two lives.  Two would be enough.  Only a few minutes but those minutes mean more than entire years of life.  Details shared and it is the most intimate thing imaginable to know that no one else exists for that span of time. 

And then it was over.  It had to be.  But I did not yet feel myself slipping away.  There was still that smile and perhaps a promise that this was only the beginning.  The word “always” came to mind and I felt warm and safe.  I felt peace.  And love.  I wish I could remember if we hugged.  I do not recall how we said goodbye. 

There were no more stars after I left.  I imagine we were both looking at the same thing.  It’s hard not to wonder where your hopes went at the dawn.  There were tears of regret and tears of betrayal.  They were calm and slow and accompanied with a silent asking for forgiveness. 

The days are going to turn away from us again and no one will see where we are or what is inside.  I am certain it is for the best and I even feel thankful.  But underneath all of that is a crippling desire to begin again.    

Even if there is nothing else I still have so many pages which were first seen by your eyes.  I will follow through all these worlds to which you have ventured.  Maybe you even left something in one of them for me. 

I know my words need to be like water until this is all gone.  I want to thank John for showing me how.