a week went by. he wanted to see me but I wouldn’t let him. maybe I was selfish but I needed my own space. to recover, not only from the illness but also from the invisible wounds of the past few weeks. sleep was the only consolation that I needed and the british accent of downton abbey. yesterday I finally felt well enough to leave the house. the ever-lasting grey weather put me in a dreary mood. I took the train to his place; I walked slowly. the apartment was dark, the air in it stale and dump. his little sister sleeping in the next room, coughing faintly in her sleep.
we watched the cartoon network, which is what we always do every time I find myself on his couch, next to him, in a soft but firm embrace of his arms. watching tom & jerry makes me nostalgic but I appreciate those quiet moments, interrupted only with occasional laughter. it wasn’t until I saw his face that I realized how much I actually missed him. I thought of nothing.
the air grew colder and I stepped outside for a cigarette. darkness was falling down around me gradually and I wished there were stars on the sky. he came down after me. I leaned onto him, smelling his gentle cologne. we gazed at the nightly sky. I want to move somewhere where I can see the stars, I said. I felt him nod.
later in the evening we sat in our park, laughing. there were no arguments and we ate mcdonald’s. surprisingly they were playing jazz. I found this amusing and amazing at the same time and he just looked at me. you are crazy, he repeated. papa made fried bananas and soft potato mash with meat and beans, which they roll in balls as they eat. I like that it is their custom to eat with hands. they bit off pieces of chili peppers and talked in their language. instead of feeling as an outsider, somehow, I felt at peace. it gives me time to observe them. I am trying to learn.
it rained in the early hours of the morning and we fell asleep with the sound of rain pounding on the windows and roof. I felt calm. everything seemed to be as it should be.