the sound of strangers

there's a lot of things I don't understand about orange, ca

and the noise ordinance is no exception

my neighbors here in TN rent their house out to air b&b guests

often times these guests will take advantage of the house's modern pool, 

glowing hot-tub, or wide outdoor fireplace

usually starting around 9 or 10pm

and when they do I turn down my movie or music

and take my laptop into the room closest to their yard

so I can watch the reflection of their fireplace flicker in our window

and listen as they laugh and shout 

even as I start to get tired I don't want to leave the room, I don't want them to be out of earshot, or the soft, glimmering yard lights out of sight

my heart sinks when I hear them relocating inside for the night, their chatter dampening

I couldn't say why it's so deeply comforting to hear 

maybe because it means the night is young

or it lessens the loneliness of the dark 

electrically peaceful, maybe

when I was little I ate late with my family, around 9pm, when dad got off for dinner 

I always wanted the restaurants to be packed, and the lighting to be warm

restaurants right before closing felt off

I'd happily wait for a table if it meant the restaurant was so busy we had to

when people talked about NYC or Paris and said "the city that never sleeps"

my heart swelled

how whole it must feel there, I'd think 

freshman year I complained about the actors rehearsing boisterous scenes outside our door

but their yells and cries softened the dark night air of the building

sophomore year I complained of the guard talking loudly on his phone late one night in the courtyard

I even went outside to confront him

there were also the cabinet-closing enthusiasts who lived above us

but it made my nights up over books far more bearable

last year I lived on a quiet street

most weekend nights I had the house to myself

no one was outside my door screaming stage directions, talking on the phone, 

or gossiping in a hot tub or hall lounge 

It was luxurious, like such peace should be unattainable

there was no audible reason for me to believe I wasn't the only soul living on the street

perfectly, emptily, suffocatingly peaceful

sometimes as I was walking home I'd pass by a house with an open door and locked screen

and the sound of their living room TV would hit me like the warm, tingling burst of air when you open the door to a laundromat or a thick humid breeze that feels like a blanket

it's not extroversion 

it's that, while there's nothing so isolating as being alone among people you know, being alone among people you don't know feels almost as good as being at home among people you do

sometimes it hurts like a good stretch

tonight I'm listening to the muted sound of the neighbor's guests talking over each other

I haven't come within six feet of my friends in 4 months

it's lightly melancholic in a way that feels good

I hope I don't get so lucky with neighbors as I did last year,

hope I'm doomed to live forever next to or under or above or across from

party-throwing, nocturnal, families of eight

you can imagine my confusion at the conflict in Neighbors and Neighbors 2: Sorority Rising 

I can imagine myself filing a noise complaint, sure

but I can't imagine meaning it 

when I started writing this the guests next door were lively and laughing

now they've gone inside, their yard quiet and dark again

so I guess I'll retire to my room now,

now that I have some peace