The Great Storm from the South trundled northward and whipped its tail at us, with fierce gusts and ominous clouds full of rain, and all these layers couldn't keep out the cold. It wasn't the red carpet of welcome I was hoping to roll out, and still Morton street remained, smiled sweetly upon the visitors; it doesn't let me down when I try to show it off.
The endless hours of anticipation finally culminated in a few impatient minutes on the stoop, waiting for a shuttle bus with the first visitor. My heart bubbled with joy as I occupied myself with rolling a cigarette, and suddenly the normalcy of having her sit in my kitchen and erasing all that had passed. Calm descended on the sleepover, the blustery walk through Chinatown, thumbing through the Strand and when we came out it was dark. How comforting old friendships can be, how warming that they weather the storms.
But then, another day of arrivals, and again the tickled heart and quick steps toward Penn Station, unable to hold back laughter as the familiar twirl of hair ascended the escalator. We'll meet up at the place where we last said goodbye, and do you know it wasn't that long ago, after all.
And then I realized, how addicting that feeling was, the imminent arrival. At the precipice of something beautiful and scintillating, the moment before you have something for which you've truly longed. Am I not the same in Life, in Love? Jonesing for that next rush of Happy, and once it's been filled, stashing the beautiful longed-for thing away and moving on to the next.
If we like the drugs too much, they hold us captive. We wonder why we let them control us. It's cause it just feels so damn good.
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