I’m composing this post at an airline lounge in San Francisco while waiting for our connecting flight. By the time we arrive at our destination, we would be in a different time zone and I would have missed one day of posting. So I’m trying to schedule tomorrow’s entry and hope it works out fine..
I left my heart there in San Francisco..
We will be back..
Bakeries like this have a power over me, even though I’ve learned not to cave in to the temptation over the years.
“You seem sad. What can I do to make you happy?”
Out of the blue my companion asked me that. We were sitting at the Union Square for no particular reason after taking the cable car there from our hotel. I was thinking about the future and perhaps my face gave it away.
“I’m not sad.” I answered. It wasn’t a total lie, but I know he didn’t believe me.
I let the opportunity slide. It’s not the time to start a heavy discussion, although for a second I seriously considered telling him then that the answer is right there, that he is looking at it.
We all let our emotions get in the way sometimes. And I often forget some facts of our lives; I’d admit that. With a heavy heart he started to mention his limitations more often these days. I didn’t always know how to respond properly. If I’d agree with him, would that imply that I think he’s now a burden?
Do I wish sometimes that we could do more when we are traveling? Yes. But I do understand that he genuinely has really tried the best he can. Our life together is colorful, and our life is beautiful because we are together. I think we both can agree with that.
Nobody knows what’s on my mind the moment we landed in San Francisco. I looked at the city intensely through the Uber window on our way to the hotel yesterday, and I wondered if my companion had detected anything. This is something I have to tell him eventually. I’m waiting for the right moment, but I fear that the “right” moment might never come..
The contrast cannot be more extreme. At night in our neighborhood, if there is any sound at all, it would be some wild life crying or howling. Here in San Francisco, our first night at the Fisherman’s Wharf, those man-made noises were almost unbearable at times. It’s more or less all quiet down by now. I can only hope that that was it for the night.
