Of Paradise

I'm having a strange time in Puerto Vallarta.  I've been here four days and I guess I'm supposed to be happy, or at least that's what I'd always thought people did here, but I just can't feel it.  It's funny.  On the sailboat ride down -- me and Chuck and Gary and three feet of legroom and sleeping on the table cushions -- there I felt comfortable and, when I think about it, I guess I was happy then.

But ever since then it's felt like everything is rocking back and forth, like the world's wobbling just a bit while millionaires next to their towering yachts don't even look up and say hi as you pass.  It's all felt so empty and yet the marina here is so lush -- three pools! masseuse! parrot show at 7! -- and I remember watching a crab near the water scurry between two rocks, disappearing within a crack, and I kind of wished I was that crab.  Or even one of those rocks.

On my second day here I met a girl.  I saw her profile online and said, ''hey we seem to share a lot of similar interests maybe we should meet'' and we did and it was a date, although I didn't realize that when it started.  We walked along the sea at sunset, with waves and surf whispering softly that it was ok that everything was still rolling back and forth.  As I scanned the shore for crabs and cracks she told me of her list of things to do before she dies and of the ones she'd already done.  ''Number 47: have someone fall in unrequited love with you.''  The boardwalk passed and then we were sitting in a half-lit park, her tiny hands seeking my arms or shoulders more and more as she laughed, while I was

wondering if her list had a ''Number 48: fall in unrequited love.''

In the morning I met a couple as I sat alone on a bench trying to figure out what I was feeling.  We talked on a while, them in green shirts the color of dollar bills, while I kept wondering if they noticed the toilet paper that'd blown next to her shoe.  They told me of life purpose, that you can have anything you put your mind to and can change the weather with your thoughts.  I guess they must be right because their condo was huge and luxurious -- I saw it.  And as the evening wore on and the sun sank below their glass veranda he drank and drank while his wife, still telling me of mind control, didn't care.

And then for some reason on the fourth day I felt tired, so very tired.  And I laid in bed for hours but I never felt any closer.  It was like a tiredness that hung off you, like a sludge or leaden chains, so I went to the internet cafe and spent four hours looking at other places I could be and I felt a little better I guess.

So that's it.  That's been the last four days.  And it's not like I can complain because there's really nothing else I'd rather be doing here.  I'm just waiting for the boat races this weekend -- to crew for Chuck and Gary -- so that I can leave.  Until then I'll just watch the Spring Breakers and the honeymooners and the timeshare owners and see if I can't figure out what they're seeing.  Maybe I'll sit on a park bench, concentrate really hard and try to make it snow.  Or maybe I'll just billow a bit on whatever winds I find, rock back and forth, or pretend I'm a crab or a rock.

Like I said, I'm having a strange time here.


(As an addendum, I realize that basically everything I write-- and particularly the above-- is kinda depressing.  I'm not depressed!  It's just that I only feel like writing about the stronger emotions or experiences I have and I guess melancholy pulls me harder than happiness.  So no worries!)