I will never see him again

As soon as I got off that plane, the very first thing I noticed was the snow falling.

Back in Perú it doesn´t snow. It´s pretty cold during winter, but it´s that kind of cold that percolates into the bone. It makes you shiver even if you´re in a room full of people, it´s that kind of cold temperature won´t measure. As a gay teenager, I always felt like an outcast to certain degree. My friends knew I was gay, so did my parents, nobody had a problem with it, but I knew nobody like me. I think that was the main problem.

I was staying over at Scott´s. I wish I could remember where he lived, but I really can´t. I remember it was close to King´s Cross station, but that´s as far as I can go (as a Harry Potter fan, It´s just imprinted in my memory). I do remember, however slightly, this tree just outside the front door. It was crooked and white, without leaves, and it seemed to be dying, but refused to let go of it´s beauty. It reminded me of my mother. Scott welcomed me in and told me that we were going to one his friend´s house that night. It was my very first night there, so I did not oppose.

We took a bus down to Ralph´s. The city lights, the friendly strangers, the trench coats- everything was so mesmerizing. The smell of coffee intertwined with the gusts of winter air felt, satisfactory. Anything was better than Lima. And as we walked down the street, I swear I could feel the city talking to me in this language of neon-lights and emotions. My hometown had ignored me for eighteen years.

When we got there, everybody seemed so friendly. Slightly intoxicated at around one in the morning I saw this sad sillhouette in a corner, wearing a red coat. It told me his boyfriend had broken up with him. It was the first time I saw a guy sad over another guy. For some reason, he opened up to me. He told me his life story. He explained every single scar. Ralph was nowhere to be found, so he told me he´d take me home. We´d been talking for about two hours now, and it was late. On the way home, he took my hand. He took my hand, and he held it tight until we were arrived.

- Thank you said, he said

I couldn´t understand why he was thankful, or why he´d done this. He looked like nothing I had ever seen before under the shadow of the white tree.

- This is probably the most romantic thing you´ll ever do, because you´ll never see me again.

He took my face with his cold hands, but it didn´t bother me. He kissed me, he smiled, and then he left.