I sat down next to an older man, on a wooden bench that slightly creaked under our weight. His eyes were closed. His face reflected a state of blissful, deep trance in the wonderful and colorful light pouring in through the stained glass windows of the church. Deep red. Green. Light and dark blue.

People came and went. Taking one or the other photo, caring or simply dissolved in their own current reality. Posing. Laughing.

I was revisiting the things that I had seen and lived through that very day. The space invited to abstract oneself from the reality shared with the hundreds of tourists passing through.

My heart was somehow filled with sadness and happiness at the same time. Love had never been an easy thing for me to manage. Specially the deep feelings associated with it that stirred up my usual inner peace. They brought with them restlessness.

Time passed by. Finding to myself again I realized I had closed my eyes, to better listen to what was happening inside of me. I opened my eyes, glanced again at the place that was plunged into washed out prime colors. The afternoon sun had moved and the angles slightly changed. The mix of colors had as well.

An oriental couple passed by together with a friend taking a photo. They posed and laughed. My feelings blurred for a while. The intensity faded a little. The butterflies took a short rest.

It wasn’t the classical depressing place other churches used to be for me. A lot of light. Brilliant colors. No dark and grey stone walls. Nature oriented designs. The place had a friendly and inviting aura, specially in this bright and colorful area in the front.

I became aware that my feet hurt. It had been a long day and I had done a lot of walking. Their slight pulsation indicated that I was going to suffer continuing on from here. The thought passed away. Often, when consciously considered, the thoughts stopped to continuously pop up and disturb the inner peace. The power of our mind is always where our focus is.

So I tried to consciously recall all the things that had constantly bugged my mind over the last week. Spending them some well directed attention - the focus - I hoped they would cease and desist. Or at least, leave the surface of my inner sea calm and quiet after the storms of the past weeks. The intent succeeded. When done, the absence of thoughts to be considered yet made me slip away again.

I didn’t care for the time that passed. The feeling of floating lightly was relaxing and it lightened the heart. It felt like the clouding sadness had lifted for a while. I breathed deeply. It felt good to be alive.

A sudden movement returned me to where I actually was. Some school girls and boys had taken over the bench on the other side and the free spot beside me. Their babble and laughter might have been about us being sunk in a different reality. The older man was still there, he showed no sign of having been disturbed by their mindless words or careless behavior.

I wasn’t really upset. They were young and it was normal. Surely I had been the same. Most likely I could not remember. Their teacher, a mid-aged woman with long hair told them to be quiet, get up and leave the people in peace that were trying to find some. She seemed to have an understanding of what we were doing there on the bench, in that place.

I contemplated the lights after the relative silence returned. There were still a lot of people visiting this place, so real silence wasn’t actually possible as long as they passed through. Taking photos. Commenting on the architecture of the place and how much it impressed them. It did impress me too.

Turning to the right I looked at the man again. Probably I had just looked pretty much the same while I was floating in my inner world looking for peace. Suddenly her face crossed my mind. The butterflies stirred up again. I felt the urge to know that she was fine. I didn’t ask or wish for more than that. I just wanted to know that she was feeling, being well.

Unrequited. The thought passed through my mind. Feeling sorry wouldn’t help. Constantly being aware or trying to find out asking wouldn’t help. There was nothing that could be actually done. The intensity and color of the light shifted. Time had passed, the afternoon advanced.

With the movement of the butterflies the sadness came back. People passed through and photos where being taken. Surely enough, the scene and the light had an impact on them. Some looking at us felt like they were disturbing our peace, or in my case more the peace seeking. I smiled to put their minds at ease. Very few smiled back.

You know, just sometimes, very seldom two people pass by each other, smile and have this distinct feeling that everything is alright. A short glimpse, a short exchange of happiness. But I couldn’t convey this feeling today. Something in my eyes must be giving away the sadness that clouded my heart. Or the mix of feelings that was tormenting me inside as soon as the consciously created peace gave in to the stir of thoughts again.

I turned my attention to my neighbour on the bench. He had opened his eyes. My glance crossed his. His gaze was intense. Deep. Something about him touched me inside.

“Estoy escuchando una pieza de musica. Siempre llena mi corazon de alegria.”

My scrutiny must have transmitted as a question to him. “Es un concierto sin orchestra, solo existe adentro de mi.” He got up, smiled and left.

I pondered about what he said for a while. I wondered about why he had done so. Empathy. He somehow must have felt how I felt inside. A feeling of embarrassment added itself to the mix. I had tried to hide my feelings from others. Specially this time, because it was inappropriate. Maybe it wasn’t. But it least it felt like it was. The restlessness had returned.

People continued to come and go. The lights where still the same. I stood up and walked slowly from the site where I have been staying. I looked up and watched the roof. Elevated. Maybe my feelings would be elevated as well, or at least transformed.

I looked at the stairs that were spiraling up into the roof. They reflected the elevation and transformation I had just been thinking about. People continued to stream into the church.

Unrequited. The hope will never go away, will it? Or worse, what if it does?