I met him about 2 years ago, at a conference we both happened to attend. I remember having to travel about 6 hours to get there, getting only 7 hours of sleep, waking up at 7 to blow my hair and become the presentable and quite social version of my own self I normally take to these event.
Back in the hotel, we had to share the room. My roommate’s name was Cynthia. A woman who knocked on the door at 3 am, and got into the room sporting a rather large tattoo of a rose on her shoulder covering also a large portion of her chest. ‘Quite uncommon’ I thought, given the circumstances and the work environment. I have quite a few tattoos myself, some of them I am very proud of, but it wasn’t until then that I noticed I had been trying to hide them from all my co-workers the complete time. You never really know who cares about it and who doesn’t. After all, it was work.
The next morning I arrived at the big hall where the conference was going to be held just two blocks from the hotel, at about 8:30, Cynthia and I got to talk about our respective offices and the people we already knew there while we waited. I said hello to Sergio, the accountant that once or twice a year gave a visit to my office, but that was it. Even trying to bring it out, I knew I can’t really act as a social butterfly.
As all of the others started to arrive, I saw him get in. Long hair, dark skin, huge brown eyes with the longest eye-lashes I’ve seen and really, really tall. Nothing quite spectacular, but someone to be remembered. ‘He reminds me of someone’ but I forgot about it almost immediately. He sat right next to me, and as the conference developed I accidentally kicked him on the shin a couple of times. I apologized and he just smile and looked at me deeply in the eyes and I didn’t even noticed how much time had gone by, until I realized everyone our my table was staring at us. It wasn’t a big deal, just a second, but it mattered.
Later that day, after we were back in the hotel, we all decided to go have dinner together. I remember having something that mixed chicken and mashed potatoes, nothing I would actually remember later, there were 6 of us at the restaurant that night, even though during the next two days we doubled our number, but that was the only night we went out together as a group. We talked and laughed a lot. My feet continued to obnoxiously kick him in the shin, but by then, I had already noticed that was something he liked.
About an hour and a half later we left the place, we all had so much to read and study for the next day and of course, we were tired. ‘I’m going to take a walk and I’ll be back in a few minutes’ he said, and I couldn’t help but complete with ‘I’ll go with you’. And I did.
He was wearing a green, military jacket, the same jacket I saw him wearing hundreds of times after that one night and the one I remember him with. It was a cold night. Real cold. So cold he surrounded me with his arms as we walked. Dark night on a dangerous city, walking streets we didn’t even know cause both of us lived more than 2000 miles in opposite directions, and we just happened to crash into each other there, in that specific city, where none except from our co-workers knew our names. He looked at me dearly and after an hour he suggested we got back in the hotel, the next day already looked like a long day. We passed the tall wooden doors of the colonial hotel we were staying at, and walk towards the garden.
He grabbed me and hugged me against the wall ‘Is there anyone waiting for you back in your city?’ I asked and he nodded while saying ‘No’. There wasn’t anyone for me either. He kissed me then.
For about 3 months we lived one of the most intense romances I’ve experienced. We met in distant cities, and as our relationship was about to end, we spent a couple of days at the same city we met, visiting the Museum of Modern Art and feeding squirrels. On the last day, I said goodbye and got into a taxi. He left the city that same night, and we never met again.
Sometimes, I miss him, not as a lover (if that’s what he was) but as a friend. Sometimes I couldn’t care less about his whereabouts. But I think of him constantly, as he made me feel something I never felt before. I fell in love with him in just a couple of days and he did so too, and from loving him, I got some of the most important experiences I’ve ever had in my life. He vanished from my life as I decided not to look for him. I know he’s alright though, I also know we will never meet again. I was Ok with that from the very beginning.
After we parted, I didn’t want to fall in love with anyone, and so, I decided not to date anyone for about a year and a half. I didn’t really care about relationships and didn’t feel prepared to move into something deep or emotional. I never felt the need to be with anyone, I was ok. Now, I am in love. Deeply in love to be precise.
A couple of hours ago, I was cooking, and somehow ended up remembering all this. Somehow, I needed to vent a bit.
– Kou
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