May 8, 2017
Crunching gravel under my sandals and cigarette smoke in the emergency stairwell brought back memories from a summer past. The muffled street sounds, whooshing car tires, tossed pebbles, all became amplified upon the open swing of the stairwell door. Public transportation, metro buses, railways and train stations, taxis, zoomed up and down the streets full of locals and commuters and foreigners alike. Discarded bottles and coffee cups and abandoned candy wrappers were strewn across the filthy ground covered in stains from spilled drinks and chewed-up gum, telling the city’s time.
I wonder if downtown reminds you of those days, too, wishing you could go back for a second shot.
Find me at the fountain, you know which one I mean. When you do, we can discover who we are then lose ourselves in time and space after all our efforts. The streetlights will only light the way, but we’ll decide the path we want to take.
Don’t worry about what they’re telling you, just follow what your heart says. Don’t mind the reason, don’t think about the logic, it’s okay to be crazy; we’re all crazy in some way. I’m totally insane for believing this, according to everyone, but I believe in it anyway. I do because I don’t know whether or not I’m right and nothing has proven me wrong. I’m scared to be wrong, terrified, actually, but I don’t know, so I refuse to make any assumptions.
But I don’t want a second shot, I just want to see you again.