Encounter

I awoke to the sound of rain outside the window. Soft trickles of water hitting against the zinc gutter and making its way down into the drain. I have become accustomed to this form of precipitation. Rain, as it is known in Victoria, is really just a drizzle.

Walking down the alleyways of my area, one can get lost in the maze of bricks and mortar. These pre-war houses were designed to be quaint and small, with tiny unnamed alleys in between blocks of residence. I have learnt that there is always a hidden surprise at every corner for the observant explorer, be it a wattle bush bearing flowers or the scent of Pumpkin soup wafting from the nearest kitchen window.

And there he was, the person whom I have become emotionally attached with. There he was clad in the most simple of clothes, a wool sweater and bleached jeans. It just took my breath away; the simple and humble way in which he walked towards me was anything but extravagant.

He exhibits a human side that is lacking from many boys I know. Most of them want to be a Plastic. Don tight fitting clothing, Versace blow-fly glasses and a LV bag to match. Walk as though you've got a dildo up your ass and casually fling your hands hysterically in all directions when you speak. Not this one though. Brandless jumpers and jeans from Thailand which look better than the Hugo Orange-Label one that I've been wanting to buy.

Walking through the cold wind is bearable when you have someone by your side. It helps even more if you've been secretly admiring him from a distance. With his hair carelessly parted with light wax and his hands in his pocket, I looked cheap in my Mohawk hairstyle and dodgy gloves. I would feel warm even if it was snowing, just looking at him smile.

He's got an amazing smile.

I would have frozen that moment in time if I could.

Cold pies and coffee felt more special than the grand dinners I had at expensive restaurants. Amid the frantic pace of city life, there we were, sitting on one of the many coffee shops in the city of Melbourne, sipping away at our Latte and enjoying the view of passers by. It was more his hobby than mine; looking at people and admiring those who stood out. I tend to look at how people dress more than how they look as a person.

But anyway.

Screeching trams running in all directions. He is a kind person, will never evade tram fares. I on the other hand am rebellious. I refuse to pay for the exorbitant rate of $3.20 imposed upon me just because I am a foreigner. But today I swiped my Metcard albeit grudgingly. I don't want to get slapped with a fine while he's around me; I'd be too embarrassed.

Fucking cold winds again. The smell of the Yarra in the background, city lights to illuminate the dark sky. And just the two of us, standing there, feeling as though the whole world belonged to us.

I could have hugged and held him affectionately if not for my conscience that told me to hold back.

Silence is pure. No words needed to be said, no speeches needed to be drafted. No jokes needed to be told, no experiences needed to be shared. Just standing there, looking at each other was more meaningful than hours of conversation.

Silence is pure

He disappeared on Platform 7 at Flinders, but not before waving goodbye. The rain started to fall again, as though it wanted to show me some sympathy.

I heard the Connex take off and I wondered if he felt the same way about me.

I must see him again. I must.