Saturday, December 22, 2012

A story - part 1

I almost slipped on the wet pavement as I hurried toward the end of the pier.  It was a dark, cold, and the fog was rolling in.  The dim streetlights did little to light my path.  I wrapped my arms tighter around my black, leather coat with my purse slung over my shoulder.  In my right hand I clutched an envelope with my address on it, now smudged from the damp night.  There was no return address nor a name signed to the short note inside.  Meet me at 10:00 pm it said.  It didn't matter because I'd recognize that scrawl anywhere.  I wasn't sure what I was doing here or why I had come.  

Then I saw him. He was standing at the end of the dock overlooking the water.  His hands were in his pockets, shoulders slumped.  Martin, my Martin.  I had lost count of the years.  I caught a glance of his profile as he glanced at his watch. He still had the same boyish look about him, yet he had aged.  I think I could see a bit of gray hair at his temples.   He glanced at his watch, then made a quick survey of his suroundings and continued his stare out over the water.  I thought for sure he had seen me hiding in the shadows but I was relieved when I realized he did not.

What was I doing here?  Why had I come?  Did I really want to open these wounds?  I could not find an answer.  

So many times I had replayed our goodbye all those years ago.  So many times I had carried out the scene of a chance meeting, just hoping to see him again.  I remembered our goodbye, so many years ago.  Our painful goodbye.  Our relationship had been a struggle from the beginning and it was for the best that we go our separate ways.  We were much too young and our lives were going in drastic different directions.  The back and forth was draining us and we both agreed no contact.  It was over for good that time.

Yet here I am and there he is.

post signature

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous6:40 PM

    hm now you writeing or is this really what happen to you i am so at a aww. and when did do this