I miss you more.
I sit in front of a cathedral on a square full of life. Benches are hosting puppy love, families are posing on the stairs, and DJ of Nazareth is remixing fresh tunes on the organ pipe. The street lamps are putting all of us in the spotlight tonight.
Vegetables smothered in jalapeños fall on my plate as I take a bite out of my burrito. My mouth burns, my taste buds are delighted. For now, the last pieces of heaven called Mexican cuisine during my final night in Latin America.
After nodding to the amiable chef wishing me a good night, I step into a street where countless windows serve as a labyrinth of mirrors, capturing my likeness. I stroll alongside my mirrored twin, enjoying the company. The reflecting windows trace my footsteps.
I see myself boarding a plane. I see myself standing in a maze: depressed, lost, feeling misunderstood, in search of a liberating answer. I see attempted robberies, fights, arguments. I see myself standing on rooftops of skyscrapers staring at the ground floor. I see myself standing in awe in front of mountains, waterfalls, and landscapes that belong to different planets. I see myself wiping away her tears. I see my fingers slipping while I decline a happily ever after. I see myself closing the white picket fence. I see crowds of people with familiar faces—fingers in their ears, their mouths wide open. I see new people standing beside me, redefining friendship. I see myself smiling, watching former acquaintances withdraw. I see sickness. I see death, I see revival. I see myself laying in a hotel room overdosing. I see what I could have done, I see what people think I should have done. I see ink dripping from my arm. Words of wisdom, symbolism, and demons carved into my skin. I see beautiful smiles. I see sunsets at the beach. I see myself dancing in the streets. I see an ongoing battle underneath the confidence. I see it all. I see myself.
I see myself still standing in a maze full of roses and thorns. Less lost, less impressed, more quiet, with a sense of direction.
I leave all that was in the gallery of my recollections and press forward. I cross my favourite street. A wide two-way street with palm trees in between, majestic manors, and narrow sidewalks accentuated by colossal trees with branches full of the greenest leaves.
Smaller buildings occasionally break the monotony of the manors. The accompanying terraces are filled with dolled-up couples on their first or umpteenth date, depending on their enthusiasm. I enjoy the subtle glances and respond with my perpetual grin.
My beloved street intersects with the street where nightlife thrives. I cross an intersection and listen to the reggaeton blaring loud enough to serve as a wrecking ball. Short skirts, hungry eyes, and bravado pass me by, while a sporadic “Hola” sends all my blood rushing to the gathering point between my thighs. A hedonist at heart, a stoic by choice.
I extinguish the flames licking at my heels and let purgatory be. Only a few blocks to the safe haven called pillow and mattress.
A homeless person walks up to me. He’s wearing a pair of torn shorts, forgot his teeth somewhere on a rusty spoon, and has hair long enough to compete with Rapunzel. He shouts words I’m unable to unravel, but his motion of hands is universal: money.
I search my pockets, to find that I have no change on me. He’s ready to move on and curse me in his voodoo language. I motion for him to wait. Only two blocks separate me from my home base. So I take off my T-shirt and shoes and hand them over to him. I have no change, but these might make some.
The homeless man stares at me. He accepts it without saying a word, puts both on and walks off in continued silence. It doesn’t matter, I think to myself. The reward is that he will be a little less bothered by wind and gravel.
I turn my gaze upward at the night sky. The stars are hidden behind the clouds. A mariachi band appears next to me and plays the most sentimental song known to man.
I put my hands in my empty pockets, straighten my back, and sigh. Then I leave.
Then I leave.
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I wrote a novel! It’s available on: https://www.amazon.com/Vic-Koopmans-ebook/dp/B0B6TC4WX9/ref=mp_s_a_1_1?crid=GWSYPFYSYYSU&keywords=vic+koopmans+head+first&qid=1658281167&sprefix=vic+koopmans+headfirst%2Caps%2C127&sr=