In four hours, four long drawn hours that seemed like forever, i found him. I watched him surface through the pain and the betrayal. He had no scars, none on the outside at least. He emerged and held my hand. He had taken me away, taken me to that place i had always wanted to go. A place i had only heard of. He was my guide, my saviour. We sat in isolation from the world, the unbranded untouchables. A pink candle was my only source of light that Monday afternoon. He was the darkness, a darkness that didnt blind me. I felt an uneasy comfort. Was this wrong? Why do i feel safe? Insecurity had almost become a habit and yet with him there was no trace of it.
I watched him, without realising. Observing, not staring. I would look at him and laugh. And cry. Feel wrong. And right. All the lines i had drawn were being erased. All the fences i had put up were being pulled down. Gently. I had let him into my life. I imagined myself in the 1950's, driving a Ford Edsel, the wind in my hair, inhaling clarity. I asked him if he would have wanted to know me in the 50's. He smiled. All of it felt like a dream, a nice dream, but one i couldn't control. I was flying, soaring, and i wasn't alone. He gave me something that Monday afternoon, something no one could ever give me, something no one could take away. Ask me now what exactly it was and i wont be able to tell you. Simply because i dont know.
He was a stranger. One who, not easily might i add, but nevertheless, one who was beggining to take his mask off. He intimidates me. He scares me. Yet, in his black shadow, all i find is safety. Answers. Hope. A random smile. He is, and will forever be, my Random Friend.