November the second was a Saturday.
I had never been to an art exhibition, and even before the venue was announced, I bought a ticket for myself. A tad impulsive but I had this nagging feeling that I was going to chicken out if I didn't do it that fateful day in September.
As the month neared it's end, my life became a cluster fuck; planning a funeral, kissing ass, ignoring phone calls, getting crucified with false accusations, being on the phone for hours, BTW, fuck phone calls.
Insomnia, rage, stress, smoking cigarettes after I quit years ago, explaining, cussing, being looked down on and called a child.
I began to look forward to the second day of November, that date almost became an anchor because it promised an escape from myself. I didn't exactly have high hopes for a spectacular event, I have given up on hoping. It was simply a day that was going to be different from the darkness I had been staring into since June.
Truthfully, I had planned to go with someone but I changed my mind, deciding to go alone. I changed my mind once more and asked him on Halloween, I handled his ticket purchase, logistics, I invited him after all. After misdirecting him with my horrible description ability he showed up at the meeting point.
Waiting, bantering, shared laughter, complainants, and notifying him I was going to leave early, we were finally on our way.
It was easy to locate, unfortunately I have the worst retentive memory and I paid for it, literally.
He made himself at home when we got there while I tried my hardest to blend in with the walls. He asked if I wanted to have my pictures taken and after I declined he turned me into his photographer, I gladly accepted to do it, I even did same for one of the artists.
As the day progressed I saw him talking to a girl and my mood soured. It's not what you think, I wasn't jealous of her I was jealous of him, still not what you think.
He found someone to talk to and still managed to send me snaps while we were under the same roof, yet here I was, avoiding people after promising myself to socialise.
I had let that dark cloud follow me into such a bright place, it made me angry at myself. My phone vibrated and the caller ID exhausted me. It was 5:25pm.
My fingers traced the pack of cigarettes in my bag, I remembered the sign downstairs that warned against smoking and I sighed. It was time to go.
Slow steps, a brief halt to answer a call, two buses later, it had turned dark and I had reached my destination. The negative emotions intensified, I had to travel to my hometown the following day, I now hate the people that live in that place.
As for The Odessey I experienced, the photographs were my favourite, maybe I should have stayed a bit longer.