Thursday, February 25, 2016

Staring Down at the Waves and Up at the Stars

     In the early morning hours I sit in the endless, echoing self-silence that is my lot at work, and I find myself with an abundance of time.  Time to sit in my elevated chair of watchfulness, like a gargoyle who's only job is to stay still and watch the lap swimmers until one of them should need saving.  If that day ever comes during morning lap swim (the time for triathletes to come and wake up - their own version of the cup of coffee) I'll admit I'll be surprised.
     So I think.  Some days I relish the abundance of time given to me to untangle my woven mass of thoughts, while other days all I can think of is the slow progress of the clock's minute hand.
     Today, however, my thoughts were interrupted by a laugh that made me look at the swimmers not for their capabilities to stay breathing, but rather for their faces.  I had heard your laugh - one I haven't heard since long ago, since before you decided that we were irrevocably finished and done with.  When I found the owner of that unique laugh, I was a bit relieved to see that it was an impostor and not actually you in the water.  It has been a while since I've harbored hard feelings towards you, but I still have no joy in the thought of meeting you again and being forced into conversation or confrontation.
     I used to lie awake staring at the stars out my bedroom window and wonder why I wasn't enough for you.  But I've found peace since then.  I have found a life of fulfillment and challenge and everything I was looking for.  And I found this without you.  When that thought first occurred to me, I thought to myself that this was the best revenge.  But that thinking quickly dissipated when I thought of all you had meant to me.  Of all the days, and nights, and dreams we had trusted to share with one another.
     Struck by a mix of relief and nostalgia, I settled back into my duty of keeping watch and I said a prayer, wishing that you would find your own life of fulfillment too.  I hope you do.
    

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

Romance Ablaze



When I thought back to the first moment that I knew I loved her, my mind went to the summer of 2012.  We were canoeing out on the lake, and the sun was just beginning to set, setting the sky ablaze with colors.  She was wearing a red bathing suit and we were both as tanned as could be.  We had stopped paddling just to look at the sky and to drink in the evening air when suddenly she lifted her legs, spun around in her seat to face me, and said,
            “Aaron, this is the life I never want to stop living.  Right here, right now, I have everything I want.”
            When I looked into her lake-green eyes, I knew that she was the life I never wanted to give up – never wanted to stop living for.  She was wholesome and being around her made me feel like there could be good in this life that I could keep. 
            She spun back around then, with a graceful talent that kept the canoe upright and practically undisturbed.  And she began to sing.  Listening to the lilting song that escaped her lips, I whispered, “I love you, Sandy,” and I knew it would always be true. 
            Fast forward three years, and I still had not said it aloud.