I pushed the hard wooden door wide open, grasping for air. The music inside Questions made me suffocate for some reason. Tonight I needed air, I needed to get away from my group of friends, and for the first time in many months I felt that I needed to be alone. It may have hit me that in the middle of all the fuss and the music and the drinking and the flirting attempts, it hit me how lonely I felt. Ironically in the middle of being with my friends and all the people I could ask for, I felt like I was the loneliest human being on the planet. More ironically, because I felt lonely, I needed sometime alone. I needed to figure out what was wrong in my life. I’ve taken lots jumps recently.
I was living my life feeling like “I’ll never be young again.”. All my previous actions came rushing to my mind as I walked down Jemayzeh Street.
It was a beautiful summer night. And I got the air I needed. I realized that I had to call a taxi since I left all the guys I came with at the pub. I pulled out my cell phone and called Queen Taxi. “Yeah, habibi, 20 minutes and he’ll be there. Wait for him at the top of the street.” Great, I thought. I had to walk all the way from to the end of Jemayzeh; to the main road.
I passed by drunk people, and all the pubs that were ready to close in an hour or so. A chubby rock-style girl with a guitar was singing Hotel California to a group of teenagers waiting for the Valet.
Walking down the street and looking around, you’d think that the whole world was at peace. Everyone was happy, everyone although it was past midnight, felt safe. Although it was nothing but a street, you’d think that everyone was at home.
The more I passed people the more I felt that there was something I’m looking for which could not be easily found. It wouldn’t be easily found because I didn’t know what it was. I felt like I needed something big, something that would inspire me. Move me.
I passed by Melting Pot, another pub, and realized I needed a few more meters and I would reach the top of the street. The weather was beautiful. Just perfect.
I got to Paul, a French restaurant at the start of the Jemayzeh Street. I saw a girl sitting on the pavement. Her hair was down, covering her face. She didn’t seem like she was crying or anything. She was just sitting down, her head buried between her legs.
I looked around to see if anyone was with her. No one was around. Now it was pretty normal to see a group of people, drunk, trying to sober up on the street. But this girl was pretty much alone. And she didn’t seem drunk at all.
I had to stand by her, since I was waiting for my taxi. While standing I couldn’t stop thinking about why that girl was alone. There’s this feeling that when you’re tipsy, whatever is on your mind comes rushing out of your mouth. So I saw myself coming close to the girl and sitting right next to her.
“Hey.” I said.
She looked up. Then she looked down again.
“You OK?”
She nodded.
“You sure?” I asked desperately. “Do you need water? Coffee? Food?”
She shook her head. I noticed her perfume. The Beat, Burberry.
We sat there for a couple of minutes. The girl buried her head some more between her legs, and I was watching the pedestrians.
“I need to go home.” She claimed raising her head. We looked into each other’s eyes.
She was beautiful. Her dark hair covered her sparkling green eyes. For some reason, I saw her eyes staring down at my lips. I moved her eyes with mine.
She kept staring at my lips – I couldn’t say if that turned me on or if that was weird.
“You OK?” I asked again.
She nodded her head, her lips still focused on my lips. I took my time glazing into her eyes –I think I saw the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen at the moment. There was definitely something about her eyes.
“You going home?” the stranger in the middle of Jemayzeh asked. Without waiting for my reply she continued, “Take me there. Home.”
To be continued.
