a journey 1

Zurich. Saturday, 1 March 2008. 18:50

The sky’s already dark.

I am sitting outside the Gran Café, sipping whatever’s left of my maple cappuccino.

I can no longer write.

However much I try, however much I let loose my thoughts, nothing flowed.

Like a frozen Limmat.

I thought coming here could change all that.

He used to tell me long ago, Zurich is the most beautiful city in the world. One cannot help but feel inspired here.

His words seem so far away now…as though from another age, another era.

Like a boat with the rope cut loose, drifting away…drifting away.

As he did.

I came here to hang on to whatever that’s left. To search for what was lost. To understand him a little more.

But still he slips away. Second by second.

The waitress comes and collects my payment. She wishes me a nice evening as I stand up to take my leave. There is still a train to catch.

I walk by the bank of the Limmat.

He was right: Zurich is really very beautiful. But a part of it, I, as an outsider will never reach, will never understand.

Like the fortress guarding a secret.

Their secret.

The church bells ring, resonating and echoing the emptiness of the city, the emptiness of my heart. It is seven.

That’s when I see her.

The girl sitting alone on the steps leading down into the water of the river, handbag on her lap. She seems so alone. As though abandoned by the entire world.

She stares at the reflection of herself, of the buildings on the opposite bank, in the water. Or perhaps she is staring at nothing. Nothingness.

The church bells continue to ring.

I leave her behind, and she slowly becomes engulfed by the materializing mist. Or maybe I had simply imagined her presence.

Reaching the Main Station, looking at that big billboard with the ad of her favourite cigarette, it suddenly strikes me: he still loves her a lot. Maybe more than me.

More than me.

Even though he was with me, his heart wasn’t. Even though he claimed otherwise, I could see that he never got away from her. Maybe he didn’t manage to. Maybe he didn’t want to.

Why else would he still smoke that same brand?

He never kicked the habit of smoking; neither did he kick the habit of loving her.

There was some part of his heart, I could never reach. Some people, I could never replace.

Someone.

I check my platform on the information display and make my way to Platform 16.

It’s time for me to go. I don’t belong here.