Leaving Cork.
Going to the backyard, it takes a while for my eyes to adjust to the lack of light. For the first 5 seconds all I can see are the brighter stars, or planets. Just a few dots in the darkness. Then the brilliance unfolds. Countless stars, too many to fathom, so beautiful. So very beautiful.
I sit down against the wall and drink my tea, thinking of what everyone else is doing. He’s probably still asleep. She’s probably waking up. Is his sky as clear as mine, or is it cloudy as it usually is? Is he doing what he usually does or is he getting piss drunk? Everyone is probably sleeping anyhow.
I’m gonna miss Cork. I’m gonna miss sporadic pub visits with my former housemate turned buddy. Everyone except loony landlady has been nice to me here, even the bizzare girl I went to Amsterdam with. Even she waved to me just now. Weirdo. Actually loony landlady has been quite nice to me, just nasty to everyone else.
Everyone started taking pictures of me after ex-housemate told them that I was leaving soon. Felt self-conscious, but posed anyhow. Maybe if I had done things differently … but I wouldn’t want to change it for the world.
I hate leaving knowing that I’d never ever see them again. The feeling is like lead pulling you down to the depths of the sea. People I have come to known and to share laughs with, however pretentious we were, people I have known briefly yet personally, people I’d never see again. The stars remind me of how ephemeral everything is. I knew that stars had to be there for a reason. Fuckers.
I know that whenever I see a lone swan on a river, or an illuminated sky, or a cigarette box on the ground (long story), I’d be reminded of my short time here. They were good times. Wouldn’t want it any other way.
