the stuff of rainy day dreams

i took a trip to another coast, another city, to get away for a few days. it rained. the trip still exhausted me.

the truth is, the only solace is within the city in my heart, which is the city i already live in.

i just need to spend some time alone. took a long drive to the airport. was late for my flight because of the rain. missed it. a whole slew of people were late because of the weather. they would put us all on the next flight, comp'd. in the waiting-auditorium full of hundreds of chatting strangers, i spotted friends.

they had also taken unannounced vacations. some were in a group together; my old poker-playing/gaming cohorts who i spent my late high school evenings with, who i haven't seen in a few years. my beloved theatre duo, who broke my heart by growing cynical & bitter & ugly in humanity. they were happier now, growing beautiful again, separately, with different souls. they all were caught up in their return trips, & the chaos of flight delays. so many people i was once close with, and i was relieved to be unnoticed. they looked wonderful from far away, and i wanted to keep it that way. i slipped off for quiet & to buy duty-free souvenirs for my littlest sister.

and going different paths, i ran into him, my last ex-lover. the rush didn't come. he was like a stranger who i had no bad feelings towards. i apologized in passing for some antics that didn't matter anymore, and we laughed, not too deeply, and that was it, we were off to different destinations.

all these strangers. i went back to the waiting room, and tired, i fell asleep waiting. i woke to a mostly empty room. i missed my flight again. if i was traveling with my best friend, she wouldn't've let me miss my flight, but i was traveling solo.

they weren't going to comp me another flight, and i realized, it didn't bother me. i could afford a flight home. i could afford a flight, to anywhere. i perused the available flights.

it was still raining. i could go anywhere, and it'd likely be raining. there's always a route home. all other destinations, are optional interludes. the next direct flight home, was tomorrow morning.
 i left the airport, and went straight to another one.

i walked the long path to the other terminal, in the rain. i've worked in cold pouring rain, in dirty, flooding slums, in mostly darkness, for hours, for what i loved. rain in the dark, was nothing, especially on a paved, clean asphalt road. the light in the distance was enough.

i've taken longer roads on mountain paths, in marshes & swamps. i've been cold, in snow & ice, & too hot. with various companions, & also alone. i love my streets more than seemingly endless plains of grass, more than white, sandy beaches.

i've seen my city in fog, & i've wandered in it.
i've seen my city with fireflies & lovers, and it is always kissed by everything, from lamplight, to rain, to dusk, to all the moods of the poets, & the steps of souls.

they had a flight leaving in the next hour, so i took it. and then i woke.