Trip of Solitude

            But you really had to be there to understand what he meant to me. To see his huge, blonde beard, his sad blue eyes; to hear his quiet and beautiful voice.

            Before Nate and I started speaking I was smoking alone at a corner of a crowded table of strangers in a Dutch hotel. In my mind I was imagining problems that I have been facing or will soon encounter and possible solutions, ways to make them seem less terrible.       

            When I looked up from the table I saw him. He was around twenty four, in a loosely fit business suit. Our eyes connected and I felt at that moment that he was not a stranger at all, that we knew each other better than anyone in fact.

            I moved over to the open seat next to him and placed my sketchbook and purse on my small portion of the table. There was not a typical introduction, or a shaking of hands, nothing of that nature.

            Our conversations were short and poignant despite his drink being stuck to his lips. Nate told me that before he arrived in Amsterdam he had spent two months alone in the Blue Ridge region of the Appalachian Mountains; a trip of solitude. He placed emphasis that solitude is healthy for writers, it makes the blood flow.

            I attempted to quote Rilke, “That we are solitary. We can delude ourselves about this and act as if it were not true. That is all. But how much better it is to recognize that we are alone; yes, even to begin from this realization. It will, of course, make us dizzy.”

            While he was looking through my sketchbook, I asked him “Why is life so hard?” to which I had no expectations regarding an answer.

            Nate placed my open sketchbook on the table and pointed at a drawing I had done of some flamingos at the Artis Zoo.

            “You’ll be just fine and you know it.”

            “I know. I need to find some kind of relaxation technique, or meditation or something. I worry far too much about everything.” I said quietly. I closed my eyes for a moment, maybe because of the wine or the late hour. I felt his hand slip into mine like a sea shell. I opened my eyes and smiled, I squeezed his hand slightly. “I guess it is not the question of life being hard but of whether I find meaning.”

            My eyes felt sore but I was determined to struggle with my exhaustion and stay with this man for as long as I could. I stroked his hand lovingly with my thumb.

            “I’m so happy to have found you,” he said. “Even in a city as busy as this, I find myself so lonely. Far lonelier than in the mountains.”

            “I can understand that. I never travel alone.” I examined Nate’s worn suit, he looked as if he lost weight in the mountains and none of his clothes fit the same anymore.

            “Right now I am thinking about something I have always avoided. Will you help me make a life’s decision?” He asked.
            “I would be honored.”

            “Just tell me whether it is better to spend one’s time completing something gradual and of most importance or to spend one’s time completing many smaller, less important tasks?” I looked down at our hands, touching in infinite pleasure. I was ready for him to hold me.

            “I know. I know my precious friend that it is far better for everyone’s sake to continue completing all of the smaller tasks despite the obvious gratification of that one unforgettable and selfish pleasure. I can only tell you this. Everyone else would not receive this answer. But I have to be honest with you always. If there were one person I would gladly choose to be exclusively honest with, it would be you.”
            “And I feel the same, my dear.” He placed his arm around me and kissed my forehead. I imagined my husband silently disappearing forever and this one beautiful and perfect man replacing him.

            “Is this the night when I choose to give up on everything?” I felt like Emma Bovary for a moment. He gave a deep rich sigh. I could tell that he would have loved nothing more. And nor would I. And I realized the pervasive calming effect this man had over me.

            “I imagine that we would be very happy together, you and I. I could see us visiting cities like this together… But you have already decided that there is no way this could happen.”

            “I have… And I haven’t.” I grabbed Nate with both my arms and I felt very distressed again.

            “I will always love you. And no other woman would ever compare to you.” My face grew red. I was exhausted and life decisions seemed so simple at that point.

            “Would you kiss me then? So we can always remember that we did in fact kiss.”

            “If we kiss, neither of us will ever be happy again,” he said with great sadness.

            And so we didn’t. To everyone else there, I imagined that they were jealous of us; that they knew how close he and I were and would always be. But at the same time, I can’t remember the other people because to me they had become furniture hours ago. And for another hour he held me how a man should hold a woman. We stopped speaking to each other and both our minds were full of torment, fear and bliss. At some point I fell asleep.