Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Love, for a time

Posting this again. I changed the ending a bit, for the better I think. Still struggling with the middle (the bit I put in bold this time).


Love, for a time

 

                She was standing against a short retaining wall, waiting for a bus. The suns light embraced her like a spotlight, her golden, freckled skin aglow. Time slowed as I drove past, and I watched her as one would watch the setting sun over mountains, or the ocean. Her auburn hair defied taming, framing her face with cascading curls. Her eyebrows were precision, her green eyes wide but bored, even as she listened to someone on her mp3 player. Her lips were painted red, the corners tugged up ever so slightly in a smile that never quite went away. She was chewing a piece of gum, blowing a big pink bubble, and playing with a curl of hair in a stereotypical way that on anyone else would appear ditsy, or maybe bubbly. On her, she was just cute; nothing could take away from the sharp wit in her eyes, the steely confidence she bore. She was dressed simply in a white blouse and black business skirt, a pair of short black heels next to her on the ground. Her bare feet were nestled in the short grass. I would imagine she enjoyed the feeling of the warm grass on her naked toes.

                At the sight, I felt my whole being suffused with warmth. As if I were tanning nude on the beach, the hot sand beneath me, the sun above.  From the tips of my toes to my eyebrows, it felt like I was blushing. I smiled, a lazy slow smile, a smile I felt all over. My heart thundered and shuddered, missing a beat here and there in its excitement. Was this love?

                I cannot recall if that was the first or last time I saw her.

                We kissed under the moon, a soft embrace that was gentle and loving, tranquil. The ocean crashed against the sand near us, providing a soundtrack for our passion. We made love in the sand, and the water swept up and around us. It was not a perfect moment, a clichéd scene from a movie; there was a bit of a chill to the air, and we laughed afterwards as we brushed the sand from each other's bodies. We both had to work in the morning, and knew that life would always intrude, eventually.  We huddled together for warmth as we watched the stars.

                On a chill night in February, we talked late into the night. She talked about indie bands, and I laughed and called her an artsy hipster. She asked if I had ever heard of one band after another, and played me samples over the phone. I hadn't. I knew the big bands, but I loved how passionate she was about this local band from Zurich or that band from Kitchener. I didn't really care about the music, but I loved it, because she did. She wanted to travel, and see them all live. I promised to take her.

                We went the movies, and I complained afterwards about how much the people around us had talked through the movie.  She had given me a knowing smile, and twirled her hair, and everything was right. I felt right. We both loved movies, the way she loved music and I loved travel. We watched classics and b-movies, block busters and character studies. It didn’t matter what we saw, as long as we saw it together.

                There was a moment where I realized I could not imagine being without her. I don’t recall what I was doing, but I am sure it involved her smile. And I knew that everything was perfect, that without her, something would be missing. Life would be less. And I think of that moment of her standing in the sun, playing with her hair, and I feel sad to know it is gone. That it never was. It will never be.

                I awaken, and she is gone. Even her name is lost as though it never was. I do not know who she was or might have been. It had been so real, we had spent a lifetime together. But now it's gone as if it had never been. All that remains to me is fleeting, images and feelings, a sense that something is now missing. I feel a little like weeping, knowing I will never see her again. Stubbornly, I hold on to that image of her by the retaining wall, her skin like honey in the sun, and refuse to let go. That was not my life, and she was never mine. She was just the girl of my dreams, is all.

I close my eyes and try to force myself back to sleep, so that I can find her again. But sleep won't come. She won't come. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, concentrating on her face; the memories are seeping away, sand slipping from my fingers. My thoughts, against my will, turning to the day at hand. She slips away. I wonder if she is out there somewhere in the world, trying hard to remember me as she awakens. The thought soothes a bit. I rise, and face the day without her.

                It's gone now. The dream. Faded away. But her smile; that stays with me all day long. And I know that for a time, at least, it was love.

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