After a year-long of correspondence, I finally decided to go to New York City, partially was to visit the great city, but it is actually to revisit the man I met in San Fran. The only difference besides my feeling was that I also went with a boyfriend.
This boyfriend and I had always been great friends who supported and understood each other. The reason why we got together was just so. But being in a different city also gave me a different perspective of what I want with a 'boyfriend', so we had a talk and stopped this boyfriending on the third day of our arrival. We didn't go our separate ways but still stayed until our original plan. He left, and I stayed on.
Actually, me and the man from San Fran only but met once while I was there, for I was too lost for words for anything more, I guess he was too. So I left it the way it was and stopped all communication.
The rest of the days I spent with some people at the hostel that has an abandoned hospital beside it with a huge chimney. Drinks, coffees, and conversations were taken up on the rooftop. For me and others who have stayed for more than a week have learned how things work at this establishment and have already conjugated cliques. And with any newbies, they soon find their groups to settle in, and one of them was Marc.
He went with his friend and came from Europe. He had an air of scholary unworldliness and his looks reminded me of comic book characters from Japanese manga: big blue eyes, blond longish hair, and his angular looks.
Right away, he caught my eyes as he stepped onto the terrace. Like how everything begins, we chatted and got to know each other. Him, his friends and a couple of others we conjugated. We bar hopped, diner dropped in, gallery visited. A few memories still stayed with me.
This was a diner near Columbia University, which is also just behind the hostel. The sticky linoleum floor with a waitress full of attitude serving sawdust coffee were great contradictions to Brad Pitt's autographed photo that's hung on the wall. Apparently, he filmed the beginning scene of Meet Joe Black here.
I don't remember much of what the food tasted, I only remembered the place was a dump but I wouldn't trade the company for anything in the world.
For nearly three weeks, even though we visited the city as a group, Marc and I knew we had feelings for each other. But after two years of torment, I've learned my lesson of not losing myself in travel romances. So I played my cards close to my heart and remained friends with him all the way up till the end of our stay. A spark was made, and the ember of this affection has been burning for more than a decade, and yet we still remain worlds apart.
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