"Four walls and a roof"People always say that music or smell captures memories more than visual. More intimate, some say.
In the summer of 1999 I went to San Francisco and I met a man who dressed like those in the magazine. We first met on Yahoo! Personal website 'Bay Area' section. After exchanging some emails and chats for weeks, we met at a Starbucks near the Montgomery Bart Station and chatted till late into the night.
Sleek hairdo, perfectly fitted shirt with dark brown pants, an aspired fashion designer and a talented writer, our first date in real life ended up in locked lips.
The next two weeks and a half we spent mostly in his 6x6 feet room with white walls around, naked, dressed, talking about love, art, music and life. The cold foggy nights of San Fran with the orange street lights marked my memory of him from his bedroom window. Holding hands, we paved the streets from the Mission to the bay area and him snapping pictures of me, but I have none of him.
The weeks ended with years of email correspondence and promises that were never fulfilled. Words said, tears cried, and hearts broken. Whatever trips that were planned weren't traveled, until the next year - in New York.
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