It was Friday. Easy day at work, one of those days when "the dangerous thirst" shows up, the one that screams: "BEER ME!, NOW!.
I, like always, listened to it. The park in front of the building looks as tempting as always, it is full with life, full of people playing, drinking, reading, sleeping, enjoying. I walk to the closest brewery and join them under the sun. Did I forget to mention it was sunny? Oh yeah, it was. It was one of those few days in this city, I could feel it melting the winter inside me. On my way back I saw him, my sad friend. I sat beside but I try to ignore him, sunny days aren’t made to be sad. Today I want to feel everything except sadness.
I sit on the grass, is not wet but is not dry, it smells recently cut. That smell brings back memories, kids playing around, stick as swords, buckets as basketball hoops, bicycles as spaceships, friendship all around. Time without worries, full of joy and hope, dreams yet to be catched, mistakes to be made and lessons to be learned. The cold in my hand wakes me up, no time to play in the past, beer is always better cold. There is nothing, well, there is a few things that feel better than that first sip you take from a cold beer, that sip tastes like everything will be better. Am I an alcoholic? No, I hope not.
My sad friend is still here, quiet. He is the opposite of me. There is no shine, no smile. I wonder what happens inside his mind, why is there some much darkness, what has happened that there is no light that can shine inside him. I may know what happened but I don’t want to think about it, it is a sunny day and I need to ignore him.
Couple of drinks and the first beer is gone, I move my jacket and pull another one from the not so secret stash. I start to look around and imagine stories for everyone around. I have always enjoy happy stories, being part of them, even if it just in my mind. Is this invasion of privacy? Am I disturbing people lifes by inventing stories about them? Maybe, but I hope not.
The girls beside me laugh while throwing an orange ball to a small hairy white dog. They are drinking wine from coffee mugs, I can see the bottle in one of their bags. They look like a happy couple, maybe celebrating an anniversary, maybe they met on this park and come back every year to remember that initial look that brought them together. Their dog comes back, swings around them and drops the ball beside me, I grab it and throw it again. Both girls turn around and smile.
I see the dog running, chasing a ball like we chase dreams. Full of energy, going at full speed, without fear. I reach under my jacket and pop open another beer, a cloud in the sky cast some shadow over me and I notice him again, sad, angry, opaque. Should I ask why? Maybe later, today is sunny.
A group of guys are playing with a hacky sack. They jump, kick and twist trying to keep it away from the floor. I have always thought that playing it is the laziest thing to do, you barely move but that is what makes it so fun. I should join them, ask to be part of that group, joke and laugh with them but I have never been that kind of person, some call me shy others just think it.
The sky has started to paint itself with sunset colors. Orange in the distance, yellow on top. The clouds are starting to pile up and the wind is starting to blow. The night is coming and all the groups around me start to pick up, they finish their wine, their games and take the warmth of the sun with them. I watch them leave and quickly finish my beer. It is time to go home and stop drinking alone.
