My Muse

Why do girlfriend ask silly questions? "Baby if we ever broke up would you like to be my friend?" "No," Mathew said providing no extra explanation with his typical sharpness. To what I replied appalled, "Why? I would like to be your friend, why won't you?" I was really shocked at the clarity of mind he had on the subject matter. "I have no interest in keeping friends with an ex," he added. His worlds sounded so final. As if I asked a man if he would share the last cup of water with me instead of with his thirsty child while stranded at the dessert. That night I tried picturing what my life be without him. I had gone through a divorce once and as hard as that breakup was I had little in common with my ex husband Sean. He is not an art lover like Mathew and even though Sean went with me to many art related events there was none of the passionate feedback Mathew and I shared for art, music or even food. I would sure miss him I thought, emotionally of course but I would also miss the deep friendship and companionship we shared. 

Fast forward time and after breaking the space barrier I found myself holding a bunch of dresses for a photo shoot of the designer I work for on the streets of a busy art district in Miami. There, in broad daylight I saw Mathew like an apparition, not alone but hand in hand with a girl, prancing inside an art gallery. I recognized myself in her, that was me long ago I thought. Mathew and I were not in contact. He meant what he said and there was deep silence after our break. Part of me wanted to walk in the gallery and casually bump into them for a quick friendly chat. But the part that glued my feet to the sidewalk with a stupefied look on my face left me static. Time seemed to have stopped except there was a faint mosquito buzz on my ear breaking the illusion of my split heart. "Excuse me are you lost?" He said. "Go away and shut up." I mumbled. "Pardon me?" He asked, while blowing smoke from his mouth. I turned around in slow motion . My face was distortedly idiotic. Even more so when I realized my mosquito was a perfectly cute guy. Interesting man I rather say, with salt and pepper hair and the kind of deep wrinkles that unfairly look better on a man than a woman.

He introduced himself as Larry, the fashion shoot photographer. "You look like you need help with those dresses" he added with a cute smirk on his face. He was the kind of guy that seems like he doesn't care but his look is very much well studied. "I'm sorry" I said while looking at his adorable smile. "Yes, if you could help me that would be great. Silly me I thought this was the space." I said pointing at the gallery and hoping for my ex and his cute flame to stay inside. "No, he said but you are close, it's right next door. I just came out for a smoke. My last one." he said while stepping on it proudly. "Really?" I laughed while he held the dresses for me. "I've decided right now. You've inspired me, like my muse." He said, "Wow!" I flirted, "I've never been anyone's muse." "Well I've never quitted cold turkey so it's the first for both of us," he said while smiling. Walking into the space I though how hard it is to find the shadow of a memory happily walking by but in that bittersweet moment that smile made the task a lot less dreadful and one can get used to that.

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