Something dreamy for your weekend. Hope you enjoy it!
The road winds around the hillside and we see the waves froth as they meet the shore down below, the cliffs slant ahead of us, gentle sloping cliffs we know we will walk on later.
But the beach calls to us first, like giddy teenagers we carry our flip flops in our hands and race each other to the water line, I love him like this, carefree, the lines still there around his tired eyes but his heart so free.
It’s a mile-long beach, lined with pine trees, the kind that gives you shade and cocoons you in a dark green coolness as the equatorial sun sets and in the quiet hours of the morning before the sun rises again. Almost in our own little world for now.
The walk starts playfully, he is splashing me with water and I scream like a little girl and he grabs me by the waist and threatens to throw me in fully clothed if I don’t stop and I say kiss me and I won’t scream and he does. A kiss on my forehead and he puts me down, he’s sweet, gentle to a fault, I tell him I am not made of glass, and he agrees, you are made of fine porcelain and I pretend to kick sand up to his face. And he has me in his embrace now and we both stop laughing and the playful walk becomes a lover’s gait, linked arms, hip to hip slowly towards the water’s edge. His firm arm keeping me close, guiding my steps as I try to keep up with his pace. Always safe to be in his presence and bask in his thoughtfulness.
It’s way past noon, we feel hungry, last meal was on the plane over to this island paradise, so we order room service and don’t see the sun till it’s just approaching twilight, filtering in between the thin drapes, lying on the cool sheets we plan our next adventure beyond this cosy darkened room.
There’s a night market up the hill from the beach, local fare, colours riot, smells jostle and people everywhere, it’s life at its most fevered pitch, when night falls on the island and the people come out, no longer afraid of the heat.
We take our time, meandering through the crowds and stalls, stopping every now and then, not looking at anything in particular, mostly at each other, we never need many words, a smile, a soft sigh, a tiny bubble of a laugh, our skins meet often and our hands brush close in the humid heat. Even in a crowd, he hears my thoughts and knows what I want from the way my body moves, an attentive lover every girl dreams about.
We pick a place to eat, he wants to try everything and I laugh at his enthusiasm for life, like he needs to live each second to the fullest. And I agree with that sort of living, never wanting to go through life mediocre in thought, word or deed. We both want the same out of life’s generous offering, to be allowed to be present and partake of life, no more hiding in the back, looking and waiting.
I am flushed from all the eating and the laughing, he is drunk on memorising new exotic food names and remembering their tastes. Our joy is infectious I think, as I see all around us others laughing and smiling and enjoying the night just like we are. Or were they like that even before and in my sadness and solitude never ever noticed it? But nights on the equator have magic, fairy dust gets kicked up from the dusty roads, stardust shakes down from palm trees and float and people can’t help but breathe in the magic.
We stay till late, talking to some locals, the food vendors, little kids that run past us chasing each other, people and lives connecting in this one frame of time that we may remember better than other times more important than this could ever be.
And then we walk back hand in hand, he knows I like the security of his hand holding mine and always, always offers his hand, to comfort and keep me close. Whatever his faults may be, and mine too, we are both human after all, its’ forgotten when he holds my hand or beckons me take his. And so we walk hand in hand back to our room, happy to end the first chapter like this.
While this holiday doesn’t go on forever, our feelings will, our respect and admiration of the other’s determination to live each day with vigour yet infused with something we had shared in a long forgotten past. But no longer living in the past, moving slowly towards a new future, together, to inspire a new living for each other.
And that was the start of all our adventures that will make of a lifetime of memories, and when we are both old we can take down that book and as Yeats once wrote; we will remember the soft looks and that someone at one time really deeply loved our souls.
Hope & Light
“trust your heart if the seas catch fire” – e.e cummings