He's so perfect.
Buzz Buzz. The fuchsia blink on her phone is an alert that he's on the other end. She grabs her phone quickly and swipes up. (7). Seven. That means seven perfectly crafted messages. Seven heartfelt thoughts. Seven things to look forward to.
He crept up on her. Quite literally. Not her type, she had thought. Wait, why did she care, she didn't have a type. She didn't need to have a type. Who needs a type when you don't need anyone at all. When you're done and dusted. Just good all by yourself. Who needs a type when you've thrown in the towel. Retired from the game. When you just don't want to even think that you could love again - trust again. That you could give your heart to another human to destroy, again. That you could even find the pieces of your broken heart that are delicately being held together just so you can remain alive. That you could hand those pieces over to another being and trust that they won't give you back your heart worse than it was?
(7). That's seven more times that she'll feel a touch of warmth and a shiver of cold all at once! Her body will quiver and she'll sink into her bed and hug herself. She'll close her eyes and imagine him there. He'd be staring right into her eyes and she into his. His eyes - so honest. Carrying the pain of years before and baring it bravely before her. She'd place her palm on his cheek, wishing his pain away. As if just the touch of her hand would be the cure.
He crept up on her. By God did he creep up on her! She prides herself in being able to sniff even the slightest whiff of interest from a mile away. She might need to pride myself in something else! There really was nothing to sniff though. It was a greeting. And then a joke. And another joke. And then a string of back and forth - greetings and jokes. They were both world's apart minding their own. Everyone settled in their little corner of misery. Showing the best of themselves to the world while dying inside. Showing the best of themselves to each other while dying inside. Days and nights shrunk. Encompassed in endless conversations about every minute detail of their days. Only the human need to rest would stop them. Sleep. Wake-up. Repeat. Who would be the first to greet and joke is what they became. They summited to the peak in just a few days. Without as much as a struggle. Seamlessly. They became each other's worlds. Everything revolved around this little dream they had created. But who would be the first to break?
(7). She stares at them. As if opening them would set her up on a course to sure destruction. Maybe it will someday, but not today! Today she looks at her phone and feels him give her a back hug and kiss kiss her neck. He whispers "I love you.." and she believes him. She looks at her phone and hears him get back at her for a joke she made at his expense the night before. She laughs, picks up a pillow and tries to hit him with it. A hopeless venture. He was always stronger, faster, more agile. She looks at her phone today and giggles as he wrestles her to the bed and pins her down.
He really did creep up on her! He did! They had absolutely nothing in common - until they did. Different worlds, different cares, different lives. One act of thoughtfulness led to the blossoming of a love so deeply rooted in honest and genuine friendship. Killing whatever snide notions she had of men left in her. Completely stripping her of the deep-seated anger and disdain that she'd made a part of her all these years. One act of thoughtfulness. A greeting. And a joke.
(7). And so she clicks and scrolls. Before, in another life, she would be afraid. Afraid of what she would find on the other end of the click. Afraid that it would be (0). Afraid of the heartache. Afraid of the unrequited love. Afraid of harsh words spoken in anger that cut deep. Afraid of the end. But not now. She's not afraid to click. She's not putting it off any longer. That click is her play button. It signals the start of a new day of clicks! Of (7), (49), (158). The click allows her to dream. And to love as deeply as she chooses to love.
And she will be allowed to love and allow herself to be loved. Again.
Friday, September 23, 2016
Thursday, September 1, 2016
Getting UnStuck
I can't buy your love, don't even wanna try.
Sometimes the truth won't make you happy, still I'm not gonna lie.
But don't ever question if my heart beats only for you, it beats only for you.
I know I'm far from perfect, nothin' like your entourage
I can't grant you any wishes, I won't promise you the stars.
But don't ever question if my heart beats only for you, it beats only for you.
- Emeli Sande, My Kind Of Love
Wednesday, August 31, 2016
My Mother, My Cover
You know I used to think mothers were some type of crazy. My mom especially! There's this one time I remember distinctly, there was no electricity and we lit these small gas lamps in the living room; the ones attached directly to a gas cylinder? Aha. Anyway, so the thing caught fire suddenly in a mild explosion. In a split second my mom had evacuated all of us out of the house and away from danger. Cool huh? Yeah, except she ran back in to try and switch off the gas lamp. She died many years later, randomly. Not from an exploding cylinder. Or a car accident. Or a poisonous snake bite. Or a debilitating disease. She just randomly died.
Besides the point.
Mothers are a covering. They are a warm snuggly blanket on a cold Nairobi July day, sealing you from your hair to your toenails, leaving no part exposed whatsoever. They will talk about you, praise you, promote you and defend you to whomever will listen. They will choose to believe the best of you, never for a moment imagining you would be anything less than what they dreamed you would be, or what they know you are - sometimes what they THINK you are.
A mother - a good mother - is the face of God on this earth. From the moment you are placed in their arms, they see the best of you. Not your scarce hair or wrinkled skin. They see eyes that remind them of their father's and a cute nose. They see purity. They love you exceedingly, abundantly, above all you could ever ask or imagine. And from that moment they cover you. Making sure all anyone ever sees is that cover they've created for you.
A mother is your human. She's your person. She's your guy! You can count on her to be on your side regardless. She'll admonish you in secret, but to the world, she'll present an image of perfection. Never exposing your flaws or faults. Never faltering.
I've been trying this week to do some writing about mothers in a bid to purge the sense of loss and despair we have felt these past three years. Don't mind me. No need to check up on me. I'm good, and if not, I will be.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
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.
 |
"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.
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
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.
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.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
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!
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!
Thursday, September 18, 2014
Sandals In The Sand - Chapter Two
"Ha! I knew I would find you!" That voice. That voice again.
"I knew I would find you!" That hug. That scent. That warmth. I broke away quickly. Almost willing the effect of it away. Damn it! I should have left earlier. I knew I should have left when I first thought to. I was about an hour too late.
"Hi! How are you finding the place? Have you settled in okay?" Was he speaking to me? Was the guy from the port actually standing right next to me, addressing me?? Stop it heart! Stop racing! Stop it! Move on! "It's alright." I managed. Alright? That's it? Where are my adjectives? I'm paid to communicate. Communicate woman! "Everything okay at the house? Need anything?" I need you! I want YOU! "No, I'm fine." I managed my usual smile. "Thanks". Stop it heart! He can probably hear you!!! C'mon! "Well, I promised your Aunty I'd take care of you while she's away so if you do need anything, anything at all, just ask." Do I get to need you? Can I have you? Do I need to ask for you? "Okay, thanks."
"Hi! Long time!" I muttered barely audibly. "This is my sister, my cousin, my baby brother and his girlfriend, and my daughter." He went round the circle seamlessly saying hello. He was just as charming as he'd been that sunny day at the port. Working his way around my family with a smile. Just as he'd always done. Only, I didn't really care. It had worn off. Whatever IT was, had long worn off.
Then, I used every opportunity, every chance I got, to see him. I was the messenger, delivering what could easily have been emailed to him. I sat across from him at meetings, if only to watch as he presented his absolute brilliance to the world. To say I was completely awed and smitten would be an understatement! And yet there was still the little matter. There was still that little piece of jewellery I couldn't get past. I was young enough to build up the thoughts but old enough to know I'd never be able to carry them through. Still I stared. Still I dreamed. Still I imagined.
Now, he looks at me. It is dark, but I sense the familiarity in his gaze. "You are good?" His honest concern almost breaks through. "I'm good. You?" Small talk is not my thing. I'm chatty, bubbly, even a tad touchy. "Yeah. Your aunt insisted I should come for the party so here I am." I could have used a warning! I really should have left earlier. It was late, I'd had a long day, I had my princess with me. Surely I had every reason! "Oh I see, she's right there at the tent." Dismissively. Urging him onward towards her and away from me. "Who's that?" The nosy sister enquires as he walks away. "Remember my port guy? That's him." Nonchalance. "Uuuuuuuh goodness he is CUTE!" She giggles. He IS cute. And bleeding hot! He always had been. It didn't matter now though, did it? Over a decade later, no it didn't matter to me at all. "Come Princess, let's go home." I ignore the whining from all parties present and make for my car.
"I'm heading in your direction today. Need a ride?" That voice. Would I ever get over just how every word came out of his mouth in a perfect baritone? "Yeah, sure, why not." Yeah, sure why the hell not! Give me a ride by all means. Make it count. Make every minute count. Use the scenic route. Brush against me mistakenly if you must. Do it, and make it good! He opened the door. He ushered me in, made sure I was okay, and shut it. Well I never! "You are good?" Eyes looked right into mine and never for a second broke the gaze. "I'm good." I smiled and looked away lest he should read my mind. I was safe. I was okay. I was in good hands. Thousands of miles away from my familiarity. Safe. Okay. In good hands. My house was literally a minute away, but it felt like the longest ride of my life! As if nature conspired to stretch the microseconds to allow me to remain in the moment as long as possible. There could have been some small talk then. If there was, I never heard a word! "I'll see you tomorrow then? You have my number, let me know if you need a ride, I can pick you up." Damn that was fast! We were home already. I should invite him in. "Okay, thanks." Or perhaps not.
Why didn't I leave earlier? Hmmm... I should have. Didn't think he'd be here. Why didn't Aunty tell me he was coming? Ah but of course he was coming. They are such good friends. Hmm... I wonder how he ended up dating this other lady. Aunty must have hooked them up... mutual friends. How did he just show up there though? No warning.. I should have left... "Muuuum, muuum, tomorrow I'll be a flower girl at the wedding?"
My sandals were on the sand.
"I knew I would find you!" That hug. That scent. That warmth. I broke away quickly. Almost willing the effect of it away. Damn it! I should have left earlier. I knew I should have left when I first thought to. I was about an hour too late.
"Hi! How are you finding the place? Have you settled in okay?" Was he speaking to me? Was the guy from the port actually standing right next to me, addressing me?? Stop it heart! Stop racing! Stop it! Move on! "It's alright." I managed. Alright? That's it? Where are my adjectives? I'm paid to communicate. Communicate woman! "Everything okay at the house? Need anything?" I need you! I want YOU! "No, I'm fine." I managed my usual smile. "Thanks". Stop it heart! He can probably hear you!!! C'mon! "Well, I promised your Aunty I'd take care of you while she's away so if you do need anything, anything at all, just ask." Do I get to need you? Can I have you? Do I need to ask for you? "Okay, thanks."
"Hi! Long time!" I muttered barely audibly. "This is my sister, my cousin, my baby brother and his girlfriend, and my daughter." He went round the circle seamlessly saying hello. He was just as charming as he'd been that sunny day at the port. Working his way around my family with a smile. Just as he'd always done. Only, I didn't really care. It had worn off. Whatever IT was, had long worn off.
Then, I used every opportunity, every chance I got, to see him. I was the messenger, delivering what could easily have been emailed to him. I sat across from him at meetings, if only to watch as he presented his absolute brilliance to the world. To say I was completely awed and smitten would be an understatement! And yet there was still the little matter. There was still that little piece of jewellery I couldn't get past. I was young enough to build up the thoughts but old enough to know I'd never be able to carry them through. Still I stared. Still I dreamed. Still I imagined.
Now, he looks at me. It is dark, but I sense the familiarity in his gaze. "You are good?" His honest concern almost breaks through. "I'm good. You?" Small talk is not my thing. I'm chatty, bubbly, even a tad touchy. "Yeah. Your aunt insisted I should come for the party so here I am." I could have used a warning! I really should have left earlier. It was late, I'd had a long day, I had my princess with me. Surely I had every reason! "Oh I see, she's right there at the tent." Dismissively. Urging him onward towards her and away from me. "Who's that?" The nosy sister enquires as he walks away. "Remember my port guy? That's him." Nonchalance. "Uuuuuuuh goodness he is CUTE!" She giggles. He IS cute. And bleeding hot! He always had been. It didn't matter now though, did it? Over a decade later, no it didn't matter to me at all. "Come Princess, let's go home." I ignore the whining from all parties present and make for my car.
"I'm heading in your direction today. Need a ride?" That voice. Would I ever get over just how every word came out of his mouth in a perfect baritone? "Yeah, sure, why not." Yeah, sure why the hell not! Give me a ride by all means. Make it count. Make every minute count. Use the scenic route. Brush against me mistakenly if you must. Do it, and make it good! He opened the door. He ushered me in, made sure I was okay, and shut it. Well I never! "You are good?" Eyes looked right into mine and never for a second broke the gaze. "I'm good." I smiled and looked away lest he should read my mind. I was safe. I was okay. I was in good hands. Thousands of miles away from my familiarity. Safe. Okay. In good hands. My house was literally a minute away, but it felt like the longest ride of my life! As if nature conspired to stretch the microseconds to allow me to remain in the moment as long as possible. There could have been some small talk then. If there was, I never heard a word! "I'll see you tomorrow then? You have my number, let me know if you need a ride, I can pick you up." Damn that was fast! We were home already. I should invite him in. "Okay, thanks." Or perhaps not.
Why didn't I leave earlier? Hmmm... I should have. Didn't think he'd be here. Why didn't Aunty tell me he was coming? Ah but of course he was coming. They are such good friends. Hmm... I wonder how he ended up dating this other lady. Aunty must have hooked them up... mutual friends. How did he just show up there though? No warning.. I should have left... "Muuuum, muuum, tomorrow I'll be a flower girl at the wedding?"
My sandals were on the sand.
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