Christmas Day
The heavy rain kept the crowds away and it was just you and me in the early hours of the morning. I refused to take an umbrella and it was only until drops of water came off the tip of my hair that I decided to put my hood up. I crossed the bridge while the clock tower shined brightly through the rain. Normally there are hoards of crowds and people in off-brand superhero costumes who trick tourists into getting their picture taken with them for money. But not today. It was just you and me.
The Christmas village was closed up. The previous night the sidewalk was so crowded you couldn't walk. There was an abundance of spiced cider drinkers, drunken friends, and excited kids. I begrudgingly walked through the happy crowds, bitter that I was alone. I wanted to go home; it wouldn't be until the next morning to realize I was already there, and I certainly wasn't alone. On Christmas there was no music, no carollers, no cheering crowds, no Santa Claus, only the sounds of the rain and the clack on my soaking boots as they hit the cobblestones. I had no idea where I was going, but I suppose you were guiding me in a way. I criss-crossed north and south of the river; the water raged like a beating pulse. Coming from Midwest I knew better than to ever walk down small alleyways by myself, but with you it was different. I felt safe and calm in the middle of the storm and disappeared into the vast veins of the beast. Water dripped down through the narrow passageways and in the dim light it looked almost like blood. But you assured me that everything was alright.
Three months earlier
A union jack pendant crossed our small apartment. It was still in the midst of the 2012 Olympics, which we kept on mute on the screen. People from all facets of my brief time in the Windy City were scattered in the room, chowing down on burgers and beer, buzzing with excitement and well wishes.
"You're gonna drink so much tea there! Tea and crumpets, isn't that what they have?"
"I don't know" I said. "I think so?"
"Are you gonna meet the Queen?"
"Honey, if I'm really lucky I'm gonna meet Harry!"
"Are you going to miss Chicago?" They asked.
"Sure ain't gonna miss the winters" I replied. But that wasn't entirely true- it was only during the forlorn winters did I ever feel like I fit into that city. The next day as I drove away, I saw the Sears tower shrink in my rearview mirror until it completely disappeared. But the idea of charming men with charming accents kept me from feeling sad. It'll be like living in a Mumford and Sons song I repeated to myself. Maybe I'll run into Daniel Craig. And maybe I'll pick up loveable curse words like 'bullocks' and 'bloody hell'. I packed my life into two suitcases and carry-on and prepared for my new adventure, not at all expecting for what was to come.
New Year's Eve
I pulled away and headed east. We went through a tunnel and there was an awful high pitched screech. I like to think that was you, calling me back into your depths. It was like I was hearing you for the first time. I rung in the new year in Belgium, happily drinking beer with my friend’s little brother, who was living in Spain at the time. We were an hour ahead. We went back to the hotel and tuned on the TV, and there you were, sparkling and shimmering your way into 2013. I wished I was there. I spent the next 36 hours obsessively thinking of you; you were haunting me from 230 miles away. I need to go home, I said. Two days into the new year, I left to come back to you.
January
I was horribly sick, but I couldn’t stay inside. I continued to walk and to wander. I got lost, as I so easily did. The alleyways grew smaller and they wound around the streets in a maddening fashion. It was torturous, overwhelming, and never ending. With a continual resonance you followed me everywhere; I was never alone. You lurked around the corners and hid in the depths of the gold and brown brick that made this place so distinguishable. You asked more questions than gave answers. You couldn’t be controlled; not by politicians or government, no laws, no common etiquette. You reveled in your own obscure darkness, and I reveled in your unknown. You were my perfect little monster.
March
I travelled to the south west, the area that I had come to love so much. There were old factory buildings, long forgotten. You told me their stories, told me their history, and gave me perspective. I learned to see in a new way. This wasn’t some abandoned place, this was an unexplored enigma with its own past, present, and future, much like everything about you. There stood a lone path that released me to the river, the heart of you, where I could barely see across. The fog is seemingly etched into this place, forever in the darkness, and it was here that I fell in love.
June
I felt alive. Wherever I was, I was always discovering. I traveled to the furthest corners, under and over bridges, through the cobblestone passageways and into the despondent metropolis. The green spaces breathed open like lungs with a new freshness into the air. I surrounded myself in some kind of unconscious reality with you- no past, no future. I connected with you on an unusual level; you were my muse, my habitual logic in how I thought and in how I behaved. To others, you were a scary beast, an entity of terrifying proportions. But not all beasts are scary, just misunderstood. In my eyes, you could do me no wrong. You set the pace and I followed. I longed to know you better. I could see you in my mind, but had a hard time finding you in the flesh.
October
I was lost and confused. I was in a surreal dream and I struggled to wake up. I felt like I had lost you and I needed to find you. The fog lingered for days and it was hard to see. I was always searching for some hazy formation of a person, guiding me through the fog, guiding me through this life. I half expected I would find you right around the corner. I followed the treacherous streets, gaining speed with every step, longing to see you, only to find that the gray figure in my head had once again slipped away.
November
It was hard to come to terms that we only had a short amount of time left. There was more to see and more to learn. There was more to question. I found you in the crusty pubs and in the dirtiest streets. You were on the high road and on the trains. You led me to art, you led me to music, and you led me to find the person I wanted to become. Where I was, you were there too, cradling me in your presence, keeping me calm and safe.
December
It was an early Sunday morning, the orange glow illuminated the city. I followed the same path as did on Christmas Day. You were quiet, but not doleful. You left me to my own solitude and I once again descended into a dreamlike presence with you for one final time. With 8 million people surrounding you, there were 8 million different versions of you floating in the universe. There was the tea and crumpets version. There was the Mumford and Sons version. But this wasn’t my translation; you were a beast that I felt like I had known all my life, whom I connected to easily, but a creature I would never understand.
You refused nobody, and we all had you. We were all drawn to you. We loved you. We hated you. We stayed, we left. We long for you. I’ve always heard when one leaves a place, they leave a little part of themselves there, while a little part of the place comes with them. I did leave something for you, but I can’t figure out what; that is for you to preserve. You came with me, in some hazy way. The faint and inexplicable entity I spent so long searching for is buried in my conscious somewhere, and I fear the longer I stay away, the more likely it is to disappear.