I met a guy at a hostel. He's 22, from San Diego, touring Europa before he goes back to Cali for his perma-job as a computer something. Has the light of a child, maybe it's a soft heart. We josh and I like him right away.
His girl shows up and she's...tighter than he is. Not by much, but we all kinda have fun and I am on a roll here because I'm mostly uncomfortable, feel kinda like I'm dying. I sound like a crazy person, but it's funny because I make fun of myself as much as them. I only see them twice for maybe 10 minutes before bed. The next day I'm in the common room, where I have made myself an office, when girl fast walks by, head down, messing with keys or something, her guy not around. I squinch my eyes - something's up. I wonder at it for a minute then let it go and get back to work. She comes rushing back a few minutes later, still speed walking, but now with her full touring pack. We make eye contact as she flashes through and she quickly looks away. She rounds the corner and I hear her sort-of-yell "I need to upgrade my bed to a private room...not the guy I'm with. Just me."
Ah.
Bustling about later, I think on how hard relationships can be, how expectations we don't even know we carry can overpower our balance and set our feeble (and foolish) sense of control on its hackles. How maybe in 10 years she'll remember that she got pissed about something like a cheating confession and let it ruin her trip to Europe or she won't remember what he said about not having kids at all, that she upgraded for 2 nights at an additional cost of 38 Euro, and that they made up for the rest of their trip but eventually broke it off.
Life is long. Life is not hard, but there is pressure as we push past rocks and up into the light.
I hope to see him, to see the set of his brow and shoulders, if he's alright or needs to talk. I stay at my desk for a while, but take off to meet some friends without him showing.
I get back at 4am to see him facing the wall, alone in his bed. Part of me hopes he can't sleep, that he really does need to talk, and not that he was waiting, but that he hears me and turns to see me and maybe relief floods his features. That doesn't happen cos he's just asleep.
When I get out the shower in the morning, this big guy is crowding the door and I have to say excuse me to get past. I set up at my sink and look up to see Peter combing his hair like a greaser.
His face splits into a smile and I ask 'How you doing?' ( in a carefully modulated voice [didn't know I did that] to be either casual or open and available).
"I'm great." He's lying a bit, but he's really not too heavy.
I do some morning things and he keeps adjusting his hair. He has to pass me to exit the bathroom and as he does he sets his hand on my upper back sighs.
I turn to him.
"What time's your flight to Ireland?" he asks.
"Not for a few hours, you wanna hang? What are you doing today?"
"Sagrada Familia."
(I thought they did that yesterday)
"It's great." I do toothpaste. "I mean, I went, but couldn't load my ticket, so I waited out front for 2 hours while my friends walked through the audio tour and came out saying 'It's the coolest!'" I wet my toothbrush.
He laughs.
I start brushing.
He's quiet.
"It's been real, Hans."
I turn to him, mouth full of foam.
"You want I give you a card?"
"Yeah, that'd be cool."
He stands there.
I look at him.
"I'm very busy."
He laughs.
Will he reach out? Will they amend? Will he be gay because this shit always catches me off guard?!
Find out next week on Europe WTF: Jesus, the Road, and Hans
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