It was the first time in a long time I’d been truly cold. Wet from the purification fountains and sitting on a bus staring out the window at an endless green canvas, he crept into my mind. I was remembering a dream I had the night before and then the air turned from the spicy smog of Indonesia to his cologne.
It was never my intention to bring him with me, I closed my eyes and wondered what it meant that he’d made the trip unknowingly. I don’t wish he were here. I am happy to be here in the company I’m in. Single and with nine other souls to laugh with over a rat that may or may not have been spotted on our adjacent front porches. Others to hunt geckos with and photo bomb. To pray with and for under fountains marked with statues and symbols we learned about just a day before. I’m content and in this moment I am not craving anything. I’m truly happy, but it’s more than happiness. I am satisfied. I am fully present and my life feels as though I have everything I need.
And then my mind. It was not a want of him like it had been. The deep craving of the sensuous connection, it was not that. It was simply a noticing. A thought of him. A remembering that I loved him. Maybe I still do, maybe it’s different now. But I took the moment to breathe him in. And then my attention turned to the volcano outside my window.