Lights will guide you home

Strange streets of strange cities feel like home to me.

I am her, sitting on the bench, complaining about the weather or the clientele.

Our eyes met across the street, I held the stare.

"People just really aren't that beautiful in real life," I said.

We were downtown for dinner and a limited-release movie. I was wearing high heels because it was that kind of night.

Maybe I knew he'd be there.

We got coffee, I got more stationary, and I kept looking back to the doorman. He didn't leave that spot the whole night.

I didn't let the stare go the whole night.

This strange city smells of cooking sherry and oil paints. The movie was phenomenal and each sound was farther back in time. Farther back from now.

When we left, I looked at him one last time. He nodded, in the knowing way, like we were old friends.

"Are you sure I shouldn't just go say something?"

I didn't say anything. But man, I could look at him ... forever. Like an old friend.