the guilt, but mostly the metabolization of the night keeps me awake. rain, and soft, wet air, patters on the windowsill & street accompany me.

i carve through the porky dead flesh of recent memory with a scalpel in my mind, looking for a granule of something; clasp a closed hand to my left breast, find a crumpled love note that i want to unfold and flatten on my chest, so i do.

---

over work drinks, i tell my colleagues that my best friend is getting married this weekend, and the cheeky one accuses me of being Julia Roberts in some film, secretly in love with my best friend, so i roll my eyes, because cheeky co-workers are like drunk people playing darts at a bar together, and you know how films like that go, if you keep watching.

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.