He wasn’t a religious person. He was, however, “a spiritual person”. His words.
It meant that he was snacking on the big buffet table of different faiths and beliefs. Some days he believed in reincarnation, other days in nothing, and on yet some other days, he believed in everything from astrology to God to magic and other dimensions. Those were the days he was at his happiest, although, it was difficult to see cause and effect there.
In short, the happier he was the more he believed in everything and everybody but effect could have also gone in the other direction.
And he was never happier than when he walked through town early in the morning in the summer after a long day and night in his favorite bar in the middle of the said town.
Tonight was one of those happy nights. He’d come to the bar early, too early for his taste, really, but he had hoped to be able to have his first beer outside, and watch people walk up and down the street. When he’d gotten there, all the tables were already taken and he had climbed upstairs and found a spot at the back from where he could watch people.
He wasn’t much a drinker and he wasn’t at the bar to get drunk. He wasn’t there to pick up women, either. In fact, he had just met one special young lady who he thought might be the one, and therefore the most special of them all. However, that special lady was away that night, and the next night, and all the other nights that month, on a work assignment somewhere. In the three weeks since they’d met, he hadn’t really understood what she did for a living but whatever it was, it had taken her to Italy for a month.
About an hour later, the bar was packed, and he was halfway through his second beer. An hour later, he was on the dance floor, and yet another hour later, he was sitting in the back, telling stories to a group of young men and women. He had always thought of himself as a young man, but he took the fact that he now considered the others “a group of young men an women” as a sign that maybe he wasn’t. Anyway, in a couple of hours, he had become the bar’s resident celebrity. someone women wanted to be with and men wanted to be.
That, too, had everything to do with that special someone in Italy. He knew that. He knew that his love for her made him more confident, and that made him more attractive.
At three in the morning, he high-fived the doorman, then walked out, alone. With his hands in his jeans pockets, he crossed the street, the main street, with a big smile on his face. That was the moment he had been waiting for all night long. The June night was warm June, and while the sun hadn’t come up yet, it wasn’t completely dark, either.
He walked along the other main street, the one that was as straight as an arrow, and he watched people stumble out of other bars, in ones, twos, and threes. A taxi drove past, slowed down to see if he wanted a ride, and when he shook his head, accelerated again and turned the corner with its tires squealing.
A block later, he came to his destination. He turned the corner to the left, crossed the square, and climbed about two-thirds of the church stairs, then sat down and let out of a satisfied sigh. A few couples crossed the square below him, not paying any attention to him. All the buildings around the square were dark, even the old police station. Then again, it was the old police station, so maybe it wasn’t that strange.
He couldn’t quite see the sea on the other side of the building in front of him but he knew it was there, and that was enough. Across the sea and then another 2,000 kilometers further south, there was a special someone, although she was probably fast asleep.
But she was there.
And all around him he had his city, also asleep, but soon getting ready for another day.
He was alone on the steps as the first rays of the sun hit the city in the east. He was alone, but he wasn’t lonely. I’m part of something bigger, a spirit that unites everyone and everything, he thought. Also, “I’m a Sagittarius, the most philosophical of all the signs”.
That one was a Jim Morrison quote.
He let out a short chuckle, got up, and walked home.
I’ve seen your city lights
As I walk away
Why can’t this night…go on forever
Journey – Why Can’t This Night Go On Forever (1986)