HE LOOKS JUST HOW I EXPECTED HE WOULD, JUST HOW I REMEMBERED HE WOULD. I FEEL A DISTANT FAMILIARITY. I'M RELIEVED, A FRIEND.
HE IS TALLER NOW. HE HAS TO LEAN OVER TO HUG ME. OUR CHEEKBONES KNOCK AWKWARDLY, OUR BODIES ARE NOT ACCUSTOMED TO OUR EMBRACE. HE IS TALLER NOW.
BEING REUNITED FEELS LIKE AN ELATED NATURAL STATE. LIKE TAKING OFF YOUR BRA AND LOOKING GREAT NAKED - AN ELEVATED NORMAL, AN UNEXPECTED PLEASANTRY. I'M COMFORTABLE. MY HANDS REST ON THE WALNUT BAR AND I FEEL THE FAMILIAR SCRATCHES IN THE WOOD SURFACE ROUGH AGAINST MY PALMS.
THE WEATHER IS SUBLIME. THE OUTDOOR PORCH IS CROWDED, LOUD WITH THE BUZZ OF A SUMMER NIGHT. THE CONVERSATION IS EFFORTLESS. I SOAK IN HIS DESCRIPTION OF HIS LIFE, THE THINGS THAT FORM HIM. I SOAK UP HIS FACE, THE FAMILIARITY ASTOUNDING. THE BABY FACE, BABY BLUES.
I RECALL WHEN WE WERE SIXTEEN HAZILY. WE LAUGH ABOUT LEARNING TO DRIVE. THE BANTER IS WITTY, AMUSING. WE TRAVEL IN TIME, MOVING FROM PAST TO PRESENT, MOVING FROM OUTSIDE TO IN. TIME HAS FLOWN. THE ALCOHOL HAS DRAINED THROUGH MY BODY BUT THE WARMTH STAYED.
I INVITE HIM BACK TO MY APARTMENT. IT'S AN INNOCENT INVITATION, THICK WITH THE PROMISE OF ADVENTURE.
THE AIR CONDITIONING IN MY ROOM DRAGS US TO MY PERSONAL HIDE-OUT. HE'S SITTING CROSS-LEGGED, INTENTLY CONCENTRATING ON THE JOINT HE IS ROLLING BETWEEN HIS FINGERS. I'M MYSTIFIED BY IT'S PERFECTION - HIS PERFECTION - WHILE HE TWIRLS THE END AND SNIPS THE POINT, ASKING WHERE I KEEP MY LIGHTERS.
"DO YOU WANT TO GO BREAK OUT ONTO MY ROOF?" I HEAR MYSELF ASKING HIM, EAGER FOR A NEW EXPERIENCE.
HE HAS ANSWERED AND WE ARE FLAT-FOOTED, HURRYING ACROSS THE EXPANSE OF MY HALLWAY, THRUSTING THE WINDOW OPEN AND CRAWLING ONTO THE FIRE ESCAPE. THE FIRE ESCAPE IS LEANING AWAY FROM THE BUILDING AND CONSISTS OF SLIVERS OF BLACK METAL THAT MAGICALLY MAKE AN UPWARDS CLIMB TOWARDS THE ROOF. THERE IS ONLY ONE APARTMENT ABOVE MINE SO THE CLIMB IS DEEMED SIMPLE. HE MOVES LIKE ITS A RACE, LUNGING HIS LONG LEGS UP THE STAIRS AND WALKING PIRATE-PLANK STYLE ACROSS THE ONLY CONNECTION TO BRICK. I AM LESS GRACEFUL. I'M BACKED AGAINST THE WALL, AVOIDING STRINGS THAT MAKE UP A TYPE OF LASER BEAM FIELD FOR LAUNDRY, LIFTING LEG OVER LEG. I KNOCK WHAT SOUNDS LIKE A BABIES MOBILE FROM THE TOP FLOOR AND IT RATTLES AND PLUNKS DOWN THE WELL OF METAL STAIRS. I FREEZE. HE CATCHES MY EYE AND LAUGHS. THE KIDS WINDOWS ARE OPEN ON EITHER SIDE OF MY LEGS AND THEY SLEEP SOUNDLESSLY. I GRIP THE LADDER AND SCAMPER UP AFTER HIM.
WE ARE AT THE EDGE OF THE ROOF ON STOCKHOLM. THE STARS AREN'T VISIBLE IN NEW YORK ANYMORE DUE TO POLLUTION. I TELL HIM IT MAKES ME SAD AND LIGHT HIS IDEALLY ROLLED JOINT. FOR THE HUNDREDTH TIME I'M ATTRACTED TO HIM IN HIS ENTIRETY. HIS JOINT ROLLING SKILLS HAVE ME READY TO DO HIS LAUNDRY. I LIGHT, PUFF, AND PASS POLITELY.
"WHAT IS THAT DOOR?" HE POINTS TO THE METAL FRAME IN A PROTRUDING WALL, "WAS THERE A STAIRCASE THAT LEAD UP HERE THIS WHOLE TIME?"
I COVER MY GRIN WITH MY HAND.
I WAKE UP AT AN UNKNOWN LATE HOUR. WE ARE FULLY CLOTHED, WRAPPED LIKE VINES AROUND A TREE - WARY OF BEING INDECENT. HE BREATHES HEAVILY AND I SOUNDLESSLY HOPE HES HAVING DREAMS OF SALTY WAVES THAT CRASH ON WHITE SANDY SHORES. IN A STRANGELY SIGNIFICANT SECOND, I AM SMITTEN.