The whole city smells like decay. The sun beats down and bakes rancid burger grease into the urine soaked concrete.
endless swaths of tourist roaving about aimlessly, peering longingly into their cell phones…wishing that they were anywhere but here. Once in a while, you can look up and catch a glimpse of something that reminds you why you came, but then some hillbilly bitch and her fat family comes barreling into your moment of zen: “Maw! Mah faeet hurt!”
Life in the city.
Cities can steal your soul if you’re not careful. When you find the place where you feel comfortable, you can disappear completely. Days turn to years. The exciting stories become old. Old and sad. That’s why I had to walk away. I don’t want to be sad. I don’t want them to cry for me. That is my nightmare.
I ran. To another city. I can’t get away from them. The energy of this acrid, hostile place. It’s like a drug. It’s like him. But he was a tornado of beauty and pain that threw barbs and broken glass…and I got caught in his path. So alive, so angry, so curious, so present.
He was the spark that made me feel alive. For the first time in my life, I thought that I’d be able to stay with someone forever. I was so wrong.
Here I am. Starting over. Well, actually just starting. I got a do-over and I want to do it differently this time. I need to get away from everything that reminds me of him…which is everything. I still think of him more than anything else. Sometimes I wonder if he needs me…