#America, #debt, boat, drunk, dublin, gay, gypsy, Ireland, love, travel, traveler, USA, vodka, whiskey
My third day in Dublin I felt lost. I was on an extended trip from my country. I was supposed to get well and then you walked into the room. I’d spent two days prior, alone, by myself, ready to spend another three months isolated, and then you walked in the room.
“Come on if we leave now we could sneak on the boat,” you called.
“Naw I’m staying here,” called a girl sitting next to me on the couch. She looked at me and rolled her eyes and I laughed. I’m sorry I laughed at you.
Ten minutes later you returned to the room because your plan to sneak on the ferry didn’t work out. You walked over to me and sat down.
“Where ya from?” you questioned. I looked into your brown eyes and fell in love.
“Yea been there once or Florida I mean,” you say.
“Didn’t like it?” I question.
“No too hot,” you say.
“Fair,” I reply as I lean down and carefully drink my rum and coke, I don’t want to get to drunk.
“So you’re here for how long?” you question, testing the water.
“Three months,” I say and smile.
You don’t really react, but why would you? You’ve never worn your heart on your sleeve.
“Grand, so we’re going out, you coming?” you ask, a glimmer in your eye.
“ ‘Course,” I reply.
“Right thought Americans couldn’t hold their drink,” you say.
“Well I can,” I mumbled as I gulp my drink. I have to impress you, God help me if I can’t.
A blur later, we return from the club, and I look at you, you look at me. And before I know it, I can’t see anything because you’ve swallowed me into you and I never want to leave, but you eject me. It was too much too fast and I’m leaving. Always I will love you and always you’ll evade me because I’m the traveler never allowed to return.