Longest Night of the Year

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I. Of Lenny, with awe and regret.

Lenny. 
... But your joyfull, ever smiling face didn't match your smart Ivy League-ish outfit. A button-down, a knitted sweater over it. A goatee and glasses. You dreamed of going to Berkeley. But why? Didn't you want to become a writer? Un écrivain?  Didn't you know every line of "Au Dieu, Gary Cooper" by heart? You danced and laughed and gossiped along, but you didn't fool me. You were already far gone in the depths of saudade.
Saudade. (N.) Féminin
Sentiment de solitude, de regret, après la perte de ce qui réjouissait le cœur : patrie, maison, amis ou amant. 

Mais pour quoi? 

II. Of Claudio, with awe and wonder. 

Claudio,
Magic sparkled in the dark cloudy sky outside the window. Your figure was blocking the window. You stood there. I sat, curled up on the couch. Everyone else was mesmerized. I wasnted to scream. To move. To dance. To play. To bend. To unfold. To refold. To crush. To cry. To sleep. To wake. To think and rethink everything I knew. I wanted to run from pole to pole. I wanted to swirl like an alpha helix. And you wouldn't know. Claudio, you were sitting, looking at the black screen of your phone. Someone had put on a podcast, and we were too polite to stop him. You tried not to listen. Or maybe not to laugh. Amidst the awkwardness of that disastrous podcast, I wanted to take your hand, ask how you were doing, make you laugh, and start to dance. You would've smiled, or chuckled, and danced alongside me. Then we'd've become two ospreys. And fly out of the window. And forget about podcasts and poems, and pledge loyalty to the clouds and the owls and the trees and the raindrops.
But that, of course, isn't how it went. You sat there, silently, staring at the black screen of your phone, as if you were trying to ignore the podcast and the noises around you. We all were. But the podcast ended. And I looked out of the window. The street was wet. The city lights were gleaming. It was past midnight. I had to leave. I left. 


But Claudio, il faut que jeunesse se passe. C'est pas la fin. on vient de recommencer. attends moi. Je te reverrai; and we'll see how it unfolds. 

cordialement, un calin.

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