“The waves move across a faint horizon, the rush of love and the surge of grief, the respite of peace and then fear again, the heart that beats and then lies still, the rise and fall and rise and fall of all of it, the incoming and the outgoing, the infinite procession of life. And the ocean wraps the earth, a reminder. The mysteries come forward in waves.” -Susan Casey
“It” had become a ritual… which might seem boring to some- but to this particular couple (who lived in a world of chaos) there was something comforting about knowing what to expect. They spent the morning embracing each other, she began by tenderizing his flesh, and he ended by setting all of hers on fire. This was followed by a day of decadent pleasures; food savored by kings, entertainment that delighted the bourgeois; simple sweet moments developed their enchantment. Delirious from the days spoils, she washed her final dish, mentally reviewed her departure checklist, and looked around-as she wanted to be satisfied that she was leaving her home in a congenial state for the men she loved.
Grateful to have a man to help her with her supplies, she asked if he would take down her heavy bag, as she would transport and protect his coffee. He packed her car, and then his, she arranged her items and closed the car door to approach him.
With only two items remaining for him to take, they met on the cool gravel, their soundtrack;
-five or six Puerto Rican mechanics clanging and buzzing to the north,
-a gaggle of south American children who romped gaudily beside their equally vulgar and obtrusive “mini” canines (that were more than not tied up to the fence outside),
-her father’s laughter as he played “mafia don” and checked in with his “entourage”,
-teenagers seizing the benefit of the summer weather,
-the hum of “hat city” as the last of the 9-5 crowd navigated to their evening destinations.
She attempted one last look at the man who had given her such a treasured day. He leaned in for a kiss, she reached for his familiar torso. Catastrophe ensued. His evening fuel was attacked! They both stared dumbfounded as it cascaded off the car hood, the brown nectar percolating over the smooth shiny white.
The wave of surprise and violence emitted paralleled the experience of beholding the game of thrones ginger queen’s unfortunate demise as she was tricked with magic and then abruptly escorted out of the moon hole. She could feel his heart break. She stood staring in disbelief. She considered the fairness of this cruel ending to their enchanted day. She flashed to the moments of respect and consideration that had composed the hours. He reacted severely, emptying out the last sad drops and quickly advancing up the stairs.
She knew he was shattered by the loss, and she stood for a moment, weighing if it was better to simply “call it a day” or attempt to offer him comfort and a moment of relief. She couldn’t undo the horrific accident, but she could kiss his wounds. The moment she reached the last step, his quick movements and sharp eyes revealed to her that he considered her departure overdue. Still crushed by the loss of his beloved beverage, he responded to her gesture with a half hearted kiss.
As she drove her thoughts ebbed and flowed. She looked around. Her perspective bordered by a horizon of a jagged dark wave of tree tops. Her mind flashed, remembering the grin on his face earlier, when he gazed down at her, post coital for the second time that day.
“You look so sexy right now” “Do I?”
She was laying on her side, a mess of hair framing sparkling eyes and luminescent skin.
“You look polished”
He said simply, spreading a confident smile revealing he was just as pleased with himself as with her. The flow of life, the peaks and troughs, the rippling feelings and experiences of unplanned events and surprising breakers
What could a girl do, but ride the waves, the best she could, celebrating the highs, and surviving the lows.