Sandals In The Sand - Chapter Four

Silence. Darkness. Only the occasional rush of waves onto the sand broke it. A little distance away music played. In bits. Occasioned by the breeze that blew some notes our way. The world was shut out. Silence. Darkness. Waves.

My confident outside didn't betray what I felt inside as we walked up the stairs. Barely an hour earlier I had changed clothes more times than I ought to. Figuring out what 'look' I was going for. Casual-friendly or sexy-flirty? Was he going to open the door to a long lost friend who just wanted to play catchup or to a long lost lover who just wanted to play? I went with casual. Doorbell. Wait. 

Silence. Darkness. Waves. He knew. He needed to calm me down. Silence. Darkness. Waves. The tears rolled freely. I should run. I should just get out of this car and run! I wanted to turn back the hands of time. I wanted to go back to that first day. Yes, let's go back to the port. Let's not notice him this time. Let's not get absorbed by his presence. Let's not want to spend every waking minute of every day and night with him. Self, let's walk away. Nay, let's RUN away! And yet I sat on. Staring into the dark sea that was always so blue. Thoughts running through my head. And his. 

"Hey!" Oh it's useless! All that confidence I'd built just dissipated. Vanished. I was bubbly all over again. "This is my friend Mo.." Aha! I wasn't a starry-eyed 20 something year old again. I had placed an order for a chaperone. "Hi Mo!" He reached his hand out. Deep baritone. Suddenly I was jealous. That's MY voice. That's MY hand. This is MY... was he? We walked into the sparsely furnished house that was hardly a reflection of his current status. The familiar scent of well-cooked food greeting us as we sat. "I brought you wine!" I had managed common decency. I checked him out. I could see he'd fought like I had. And had settled for casual as well. "Thank you for the wine. What can I offer you?" I'll have you. To go.

"Talk to me." Deep Baritone. "Please talk to me." The pain and helplessness was evident. Silence. Darkness. Waves. I wanted to say it. I wanted to yell it. I wanted to scream it while hitting him!!! "I'm hurting! I am confused! Why?" The pain nearly equalled what I'd felt when my father had died. Deep, intense, unrelenting, endless, hurt. Pain. "Talk to me please." What would I say. Nothing could fix it. Nothing could fix me. Nothing could fix us. I stared forward through the tears. No longer fighting them back. I let go. Silence. Darkness. Waves. Sobs.

"Food is ready actually, want to check it out?" Yeah, I'll check you out. IT! Check IT out. "Sure!" I bounced out of my seat and followed him to the kitchen. The glass of wine had made this near teetotaller very giddy, very fast. Think it had something to do with how quick I drowned it while trying to calm my nerves? He mumbled something as he showed me what he had cooked. I heard nothing. I smelled it. That all too familiar strong masculine scent from all those years ago. I looked up at him. Studied his face... a few kilos later... still good looking. My gaze shifted downward. "It's okay?" Back. "Yes, it's fine. I'll serve it don't worry." He was always a great cook. He looked at me. He drew closer. I saw it coming. "Mo! Food's ready!" I wasn't ready.

"I love you." Deep Baritone. Those words. He meant them. But I didn't need to hear them.I'm not sure if I needed to hear anything at all at that moment. "I need you to talk to me. Please!" The plea was desperate. The voice broken. He needed to know right at that very moment, if there was going to an us once we left our little cove on the beach. I held the ball. He wanted to know my play. All I wanted was to drop the ball and run! I should run! I should go back home. Not this place. My real home. With sisters and mothers and aunties who were older and wiser. To tell me what to do. But who could I tell? Where would I begin? I couldn't. I didn't want to leave. I never wanted to leave. I wanted him. I wanted us. "Please. Take. Me. Home" I managed.

"So you two... what's the story?" Several glasses of wine later, we had gone back 12 years. Finishing each other's sentences. Laughing at inside jokes. We were at the beach once more with our canned sodas and our Toyota. Feet on the dashboard. At home with each other. I had barely remembered that Mo was in the room. She didn't know. Well, now she did. "Story? Us? Naaaaah! Just old workmates." I responded. Nonchalance. 

"She's my wife. But she ran away from me."

My sandals were deep in the sand. 

Sandals In The Sand - Chapter Three

A random ringback tone plays on the other end. I pace up and down the sides of the swimming pool almost willing my phone to fall in 'mistakenly'. Why on earth was I making this call? 12 years later no less! Maybe I should hang up before the voice comes through on the other end.

The maroon Toyota made it's way up the road to the beach; a now all too familiar route. It had become our thing. Leave work. Take the scenic route via the beach. Chill out a little. Then head home. The warm breeze from the ocean brushed over my face invitingly. Calling me to the beach for an evening walk. A drink. To watch the sun set. We made light conversation on our way there. Work mostly. And my long list of possible suitors lining up their proposals. From the office driver right up the ladder to the second in command. He laughed like he always did. I couldn't read him. Was he playing the protective big brother or the jealous suitor? I could never tell.

Just hang up darn it! But then if I do, it'll look like I was flashing him wouldn't it? Which is worse? You should never have dialled to begin with! Where's your pride?! I couldn't help it. Plus I'm just saying hi and seeing if he got back okay. Right! The heart and head were at it again. Sssssshhhhh keep it down both of you will you? I held my breath. Practiced my "Hello" in my head as I tried to silence the voices. Shoot! What if he doesn't pick up!

"Do you need to leave soon? Because I don't mind..." I tried to be polite. All the while hoping. "Leave for where?" he interjected almost rudely. "I meant, don't you have some place you should be... it's almost 7.." I added. All the while crossing my fingers, toes and eyes that he had the whole night. "I'm right where I want to be." He didn't disappoint. This was us. Gone were the days when the piece of metal was all I saw. It's glory had dimmed significantly. And though I was aware of it's existence and significance, I had began to deny it's power. But we were just two good ol' pals hanging around after work. Enjoying a canned soda. Discussing the job. Laughing and having a good time. I was a stranger with no one else to see and nowhere else to go. He just needed someone neutral to talk to and hang with.

Right?

"Hello?" deep baritone. "Hey! Hi?" He caught me off guard. The palms were suddenly moist. "Hi!" deep baritone response. Straight. No brouhaha. I fought off the regret. "How are you doing?" nonchalance. "I'm good". flat baritone. Huh? That's it? Is this it? What on earth... maybe he lost my number and doesn't know it's me.

Right?

He was quiet. Quieter than his usual quiet. I was always the chatterbox. He mostly smiled and asked questions. His profession probably demanded of it. But he also appeared a tad weary and subdued. Like like was being drained out of him. I stared at him long and hard that day at the beach. He stared ahead at the waves. I tried again to figure him out. I couldn't. I never did. All I knew what he was there, when he was there. And when he left, he left. "Call it a night?" I managed. "Sure. If you're ready?" deep eyes looked into mine. I held the gaze just long enough to soak them in. "I'm ready." I was so ready. I tried to remember a time I'd wanted someone so bad that I couldn't have. I could only imagine the pop stars on TV who were forever beyond reach. He was right here. He was flesh and blood. So near, and yet so very far.

"It's me!" I added my name just to elicit the usual reaction. I waited to hear the smile in his voice as he said my name like he always did. I waited for the pet names to start checking in. I waited to be asked if I was 'good.' Boy did I wait. "Oh okay. Listen, can I call you back?"

My heart sunk. Lower than it had been before I made the decision to dial that number after ignoring it for 12 years. In a flash, I was the underdog again. I hated being the 'chaser'. I hated the feeling. It's that sinking feeling that had sent me calling and now the darn phone call had taken me right back.

"Okay!" I managed. He hung up.

Sandals were left on the sand.

Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart; Again!

They say hindsight is 20:20. 

Whatever that means.

Steve Jobs also said at some graduation that you can only connect the dots going backwards.

Ever had a moment when you couldn't? When you couldn't find that first dot. You aren't even sure there was one. God was there just this one dot? This stupid dot that I'm discovering today? At the end? Ever looked back at a part of your life and saw black. Darkness. Pure unadulterated darkness. Deep darkness. Never has death looked so attractive! Actually, this has been the most painful season of my life after my mother's death. And you know how I'm not quite over that one yet, right?

I slept, and I woke up. On a random night in the last quarter of 2014. And somewhere there, there was a dot. At first I tried to make it go away. Tried to wish it off, shoo it off even. My dot was alive! And it birthed many more dots. Eventually I started to follow the trail of dots, not knowing where I'd end up but trusting that I'd be okay. Perfect even. Trusting that I'd been down so long, this dot, was finally my up. Trusting my heart long enough, to let go of my head, and strip myself bare.

And strip myself bare I did! 

I don't remember a time in my life when I've given so much of myself to another person and expected nothing in return. "Owe no one nothing but love" my bible says. Maybe I expected love. And for a moment there, in one of those million dots, there was love, given and received. Almost overwhelmingly given at first, then equally, and then unrequited. I clutched at every straw. In a bid to reverse the flow of the dots downstream I gave even more, loved even more, did even more. I talked, sought to understand, strategised. The dots needed to realign. I needed to get back on top.

I fought a losing battle for about a month. It ended with me grovelling, promising, vowing, leaving all my dignity at the feet of another human being. A mere mortal with so much command over me that I shut out the world and grieved for two days straight with no end to the pain in sight! And the dots never reconnected. They were scattered too far away. Words had been said, feelings caught. Every other word was a twist to the knife that had been dug deep into my heart.

I held the first dot. I was in control. I was on top of things. I'm sharper than this. I'm bigger than this. I'm better than this. So how the hell did I allow this to happen? When did I lose control? When did I give it all up? 

Anger. Bitterness. Pain. Repeat.

Now let's see how I sleep tonight!