Warmth

Heavy dark clouds loomed over the landscape as I sped southward on Interstate 87 towards New York City. Nothing about the scenery seemed particularly welcoming. I felt no sense of warmth as I peered at the bright red and orange foliage lining the roadway. My mood was dark. In fact, as if that dictated my surroundings, everything became darker as the miles to Manhattan rapidly whittled away. Anxiety began to take hold, but I couldn't think of any clear-cut explanation for this. I began to fear that my busy weekend was going to be marked with regret.

As I pulled up to the corner of West 48th Street and 8th Avenue, a heavy mist set in. Large crowds of people were rushing to seemingly nowhere. The grey asphalt was noticeably greyer than usual. The surrounding skyscrapers looked more ominous today. They disappeared into the low-hanging clouds, giving the illusion that they continued on for miles. The air was warm and clean, but the mist stung as I entered the hotel lobby on West 48th Street. I felt removed from everything. It was as if I was peering into a display case--my display case.

A blonde-haired woman at the reception desk began to speak to me. I was only able to listen to bits and pieces of what she was saying. I felt burdened by something, and her words were only adding to it.

"Life goes so quickly," she said. "My mother has Hepatitis C. Her liver is failing. It came out of nowhere. She never did drugs. She was an honest woman...a caring individual. It absolutely kills me. Make sure to respect those who hold value in your life, because one day you'll wake up and they'll be gone."

I was relieved when I finally reached my room. 314 marked the doorway about one third of the way down. The numbers seemed very imposing--almost uninviting. As I entered the oddly-shaped room, my head became heavier. I immediately made a bee-line for the far bed, but I paused in front of the window for a moment. I was nervous to peak outside as I feared a poor view of nothing. Sure enough, I was right. At that moment, it only seemed fitting to sleep. It seemed like the safest way to escape reality.

I awoke to four beeps. I grabbed my cell phone to read a new text message. It read: Leave earlier and get here before 5.30! It was from my friend Danny. He had been a romantic interest at one point, but he now maintained his position as a close friend of mine. There was a sudden movement next to me. My friend who had been snoring one minute earlier had rolled over and pushed me to the very edge of the twin bed.

I stood up quickly to avoid falling. My vision dimmed as my blood pressure dropped. I felt foggier than before. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to nap. I felt like I had left myself back in Albany. My stomach flipped at the thought of meeting Danny again. I knew I was not at my best and that certainly didn't help my anxiety.

The heavy mist transitioned into a steady moderate rain as I walked towards the subway stop at West 49th Street and 7th Avenue. It was very warm and humid yet I was chilled to the bone. My intuition was telling me that something was off. I ignored it and pushed on towards the platform.

I stepped out into the elements at West 14th Street and 7th Avenue. It was time to speak to Danny for the first time in months. I dialed his number and waited. An unfamiliar voice sounded on the other end. Was this Danny or had I dialed the wrong number? It only took me a moment to recognize his tone. Had I been expecting someone else? I felt uneasy as I arrived at our planned meeting spot in Union Square.

The park seemed more crowded than usual. Again, everyone seemed to be rushing to get to nowhere. I turned to face my friend, Brian, who had accompanied me to the meeting. "I'm not sure how I feel about this," I said. "He sounded different, like hes gone through a drastic change. I only saw him two and a half months ago. That's a short time for such change." I noticed a hint of concern in his face.

The wait seemed endless. The rain had stopped but the clouds had lowered and thickened. A fog was beginning to shroud the surrounding streets. Finally my phone rang. "I think I see you. Turn around," said Danny's changed voice. I turned to face uncertainty. At that moment, my anxiety melted away. There stood the Danny I had always known. There were some notable differences, but I couldn't have mistaken him for anyone else.

He cast a new energy. He was more vibrant than I could remember. I embraced him for a few moments. He smelled the same. His voice had changed a bit. It held a happier tone. His face looked relaxed and he appeared to be very comfortable. I experienced a wave of joy as I realized how much he had grown in the few short months since I had last seen him.

My visit with Danny only lasted about an hour, but as I embraced him again and thanked him for his time, I felt rejuvenated. Never had I been so proud to see one of my friends grow so much. I looked up at the sky that filled the space between the glass and steel giants of Manhattan. The fog had lifted. The mist and rain had stopped. There was a break in the clouds overhead. "Damn" was all I could muster up at that moment.

***

One of my favorite feelings is one that accompanies reuniting with an old friend or lover. It's the result of the anticipation and the reality of standing face-to-face with that particular person. I stood face-to-face with Danny this weekend in what I can only describe as one of my finer moments. I felt my face glowing in his presence. During that visit I reached an epiphany. My values--who and what I value in my life--became much clearer. Change is a good thing. It brings about new meaning. It would be an injustice to humankind to prevent such change from occurring.

After I left Danny, I thought back to the times I would lie next to him and feel his warmth. That is my favorite feeling. Whenever there exists a physical connection between two people, the resulting warmth could melt every glacier on this planet in an instant. I miss that feeling, but I know it will return someday. Times have certainly changed and Danny and I no longer hold a romantic connection, but man, his warmth is stronger than ever.

***

As I pulled up to the Dutch Quad parking lot at UAlbany, a blonde-haired woman appeared in my mind. She was speaking of respect and valuing those who hold significance in my life. I turned off the car and looked across the parking lot. I took a deep breath. A steady rain was falling but the visibility was good. I exhaled and relaxed. I looked down at the empty seat next to me. The blonde-haired woman reappeared in my mind. Her face was warm and inviting and her voice was soothing. She spoke of a bright future. "Damn" was all I could muster up at that moment.