A Night to Let Go

The night invites me out for a walk and I go to meet Alexander down town.  We’ve been trying to connect but missing each other.  Apparently we missed again.  After waiting for too long, I give up and walk.  I run into another friend I met a few days ago, Agostine, and he is just getting off work and joins me to go for some salsa.  As soon as the music hits me I forget everything else, my body takes over, the medicine takes the pain.  I am happy again.

Agostine as it turns out, is a great dancer, suave, smooth, skillful and strong and again I feel divine grace moving.  Throughout the evening he continues to become more intimate, first holding my hand, then squeezing me, then tenderly squeezing my body as we dance like lovers would and I don’t fight it, nor do I say no.  My lover is leaving and has abandoned me in Cuba, I need the affection and I take it gratefully.  In the space between the dances, I let him know that we are just friends, and to please respect that boundary.  I tell him my heart is with someone else and I know that he understands.  He is totally respectful and I feel safe.

After dancing, we take a walk to the Malacon.  He is easy to be with, light and playful.  We are laughing and slapping each other on the back nearly falling over in the fun wandering thru downtown Habana. 

My phone rings and I answer.  Manuel's voice greets me with some agitation, “Where are you?  What are you doing?  Who are you with?” 

When I tell him I am taking a walk with a friend, another stream of questions comes, “Who is he?  You replacing me already? You should go back to the house right now.”  I smile at his jealousy and find some pleasure in it.    

“Come back, I want to be with you,” I say.  “I miss you baby.”  Then he tells me he’s not coming back until the night before he leaves and I want to scream at him.  I want to say “God dammit.  I busted my ass to get here to spend time with you and you can’t give me one fucking day before you go?”  But I say, “Please come back tomorrow.  We only have two days, and I miss you.” 

I know he won’t.  I know I will barely see him before I leave and that probably it is for the best.  I hang up the phone and feel a combination of being happy and touched by his jealousy, frustrated by his absence, and angry that I was such a fool to plan a trip around the possibility of having time with a man who is just not available nor willing to prioritze me in any way.  I also know he is here to be with his family and that his family is his priority and again, I understand in spite of my own selfish desires.

I return to Agostine who is waiting patiently for him and let him put his arm around me and hold me in my grief.  I sink into him and feel comforted, but my heart wants only my lover, the man I am now in love with.   “When you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with,” runs through my head and I surrender to accept what is present for me in the moment rather than wasting any more tears on a man who won’t give me what I want and need. 

The city is so beautiful at night.  The majesty of the buildings comes to life even more in the darkness when you can’t see the flaking paint and broken windows.  Something of the magic of the past comes alive and you can almost feel the ghosts whirling around the place haunting it with the zillions of lost dreams and hopeless desires.  I love it.  I am happy in spite of my grief.

We spend the night laughing and strolling the Malacon.  He is a total gentleman and never crosses any boundaries or disrespects me in any way.  He is a good and true friend to me and I am grateful for some safe sweet company.  He teaches me to curse in Cuban Spanish and we yell and curse through our laughter at my pathetic pronunciation, and I try to not let my thoughts wander to the hole that is growing in my heart.  I have to let go.