It's Cold Out

The most comforting thing about moving to San Francisco is the knowledge that the weather will always be consistent. The most depressing thing about moving to San Francisco is the knowledge that the weather will be dreary and foggy, consistently. In the three weeks since I’ve been here I’ve watched in sadness as my SoCal tan has faded, the swimsuit lines that I have grown accustomed to have all but disappeared. For the first time in my life my brown skin looks ashy, dull, as opposed to having the sun kissed glow that I have grown so fond of. Needless to say the transition has been rough. Seasonal depression is very real, especially for a young woman with already high levels of anxiety. 

5:43 August: hey girl, there’s a bit of traffic but eta is 6! cant wait to see you

I pick up my phone and smile. The city has brought me one good thing. 

I turn back to the mirror and continue to get ready, drawing my eyes up from my faded skin. Instead I bring my focus to my face and start to line my eyes with kohl, the old fashioned typical brown girl way. 

August was a surprise. An old friend from undergrad I’d reconnected with on insta after moving to the city this fall. Truth be told I was just glad to have a friend in the city, someone to spend time with. I couldn’t have predicted that we’d get on so well, that we’d hook up upon our first meeting, that he’d make the drive in traffic after work to come to my place now. He was a reminder that life can take you by surprise, that sometimes people walk in at the most unexpected times, sometimes in a form that you didn’t see coming. I didn’t see him coming, not by a long shot. But now, I can’t imagine the last few months without his presence. Everyone needs a constant in life. And he was mine. 

A tapping sound catches my attention. I walk over to my window to find a steady rain falling outside, hitting my balcony and plants. The everpresent layer of fog drifts slowly through the street, now accompanied by a misting rain. The rain here never pours, it mists, drizzles, blends into the background of the already dreary weather. While objectively beautiful, it only makes me feel colder than ever, and I wrap my cardigan around myself more tightly. I miss open blue skies and sunlight, the kind of heat that would break through this fog in an instant. To me the fog reads like the beginning of a horror movie, it makes me feel trapped and uncomfortable.

I finish getting ready and stand in front of the full length mirror for a moment, smoothing out my black skirt. Sometimes I feel like my wardrobe is my subtle attempt to escape the weather here. 

6:02 August: here just finding parking

It’s funny how you don’t realize how much you were looking forward to seeing someone until they’re right in front of you. I head out of my room and open my front door to catch August making his way up the street, sweater in one arm, smoking bag in the other. His dark skin is wet with rainwater, his short curls are getting soaked in it. Seeing him takes me back to college, hanging out in the dorms with our friends, texting each other memes in class. It hits me how much he’s grown, how the man in front of me is different from the student I met in undergrad. How he’s grown and changed. I realize that I am no different. There is something beautiful about knowing someone for a long time, and meeting them in a new place in their lives when you can both reflect on your growth and journeys. I smile at him, seeing him in this new light for the first time. 

We waste no time in getting back to my room and commencing our business. Afterwards we lay in my bed, soaking in our post-coital bliss. Suddenly the tapping rain sound on my window has a new layer of comfort. It’s soothing, relaxing. And I realize that I’m not the only one experiencing this effect. August’s back is facing me, he’s laying in between my arms. His breathing is slow, calm, and his muscles aren’t tense but relaxed. It takes me a moment to realize that he’s fallen asleep in my arms. And how can I blame him? I can’t imagine a more comforting scene. 

A few moments pass, then a few more, and I realize that his will to sleep and mine to stay awake and experience the moment are both quite strong. My mind is filled to the brim with thoughts, observations that I want to share with someone. I just wish that I could talk to him, I think to myself. But he looks so peaceful, I could never wake him for my own sake. In a moment of inspiration, I grab my phone from beside me. 

9:35 Muskaan: hi

9:35 Muskaan: you fell asleep in my arms, its really cute so i dont wanna wake you

9:36 Muskaan: but i do miss talking to you 

9:37 Muskaan: i had a lot of fun tonight. I always have fun with you

9:37 Muskaan: im glad you’re staying the night, i dont think i have the will to wake you right now

9:38 Muskaan: wait dont you have a dog?  I hope you reminded your roommate to walk him

9:38 Muskaan: i keep saying when this song ends ill wake you up

9:39 Muskaan: but then i cant bring myself to

9:40 Muskaan: i didnt know that you snore lol

9:40 Muskaan: thank you for tonight. thank you for being you 

I smile and put my phone down on the bedside table. I wrap my arms tighter around him, listening to the rain outside that accompanied him to me. I’ve never felt warmer.