It is raining in New York

It is raining. The subway stops abruptly, and I say good-bye in a hurry, not sure they understand what I’m doing or where I’m going. This isn’t our stop. I think I catch a glimpse of them exchanging stares as they see me disappear amidst the crowd. I open my umbrella as I climb out of the subway and head into the rain that appears to be growing more as I come out. Now, where was it? I take out my phone to check the address of the knight in the middle of Central Park. No one is heading there with this weather.

People are fleeing in all directions. A couple runs into a coffee shop soaked and laughing, and I realize my lips are curving up a little. I sigh. A strange excitement runs though my body, not electrifying it… this is different. It is like warmth and chills at the same time. My heart is rushing out of expectation and the blood is flowing all the way to each tip of my fingers keeping the cold away even now that my feet are wet and my hair is sticking to my face. I take in the view of the red and blue neon signs over the restaurants, of the outside staircases, of the oaks and its wet leaves…I take in the smell, mixture of coffee and wet dirt, reaching my nostrils and the heat coming out of each open door I come across. If I could only take a picture of it all… of this moment with every single detail, of the people, rushing, of my shoes, splashing over the concrete trying to avoid the rain and yet enjoying getting soaked in it, of this happy anxiety of doing something silly and yet of something that feels completely right…

I reach the street next to Central Park. The light is red, and I wait impatiently for it to change. People are too busy looking for shelter to stop and look at where I’m heading. I laugh at myself. What am I doing? The light turns green. I rush between the trail of trees and walk following the signs that say “Turtle Pond.” Oh dear, I really hope I don’t get lost. As I’m thinking this, I climb across a small mount and there he is. With his back towards me, he waits. The knight in bronze armor… my knight. The rain isn’t as strong as it used to be, but I can feel the chills now. As I stare at him, I get the feeling I have stopped breathing. I’m not sure if I want to smile or cry, so I do a little of both. I’m not sad… I’m happy. I’m happy sad.

 One year, five months and some days ago, he was here. He stood where I’m standing, and took the picture I’m about to take. He saw exactly the same thing I’m seeing now: King Jagiello.  It was him who led me to this place. He wanted me to see what he saw and now I have. I feel him so close… The King isn’t a king anymore, but a knight. And somehow, even in the distance, he is my knight.

This rainy evening in Central Park is ours, and it will always be. This is the place where we met. This is the closest we have ever been. 

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