Souls Meeting the Sands

Although I fell in love with the ocean, he stole my heart afterwards. He took me to the beach. He took me down into the sand. It was muddy. Messier than my landlocked self had even thought. He laughed because he was picking barnacles off a rock. I made a gross face.

“Did it just spray you?”

“It’s a self-defense thing. Happens all the time when I’m cleaning boats.”

“I could never do that. It’s so gross!”

“It doesn’t even bother me anymore.”

I took his jacket. I didn’t want it to get dirty while he’s moving in the mud. He laughed and asked if I wanted a seashell. They’re gorgeous, of course. We laughed and looked for seashells. He would find two and compare, tossing the loser to the side.

“Which one do you want?”

“The right one.”

He found me the perfect shell. He told me about sea glass and all about his collection. He found a piece of green glass. We went to the water’s edge and he knelt down to clean them. His hands are so gentle. I wouldn’t expect that of someone who so willingly squeezes barnacles to death. I watched as he cleaned the shell and the glass in the ocean. Souvenirs of the first time I realized I love him.

We got popcorn and we sat and watched the water moving back and forth. He told me about the arcade behind us. How he used to come and play. His voice was a melody and the tune I just couldn’t stop listening to. If the ocean had a voice, it’d be his.

“Sorry! I know I’m probably just dragging on and you can shut me up if I’m talking too much.”

“No! Please. Keep going. I love hearing your stories about this place. It’s sweet.”

He got a little flustered. Did he hear the girls behind us? They thought we were on a date. They called us cute. One was jealous. Or maybe it was because no one ever really cared to hear his passion before. I didn’t mind. The light in his eyes was glory in hazel armor.

We left and went downtown. He showed me where Salem’s witches were murdered. He showed me where they were buried. He showed me a couple graveyards, the old courthouse, where Hayes lived, and the memorial. We ran through these streets trying to catch up with history.

We went to one graveyard. He was so curious about Giles Cory. His grave is unmarked but I guess we’re a detective duo. We played guessing games; wondering where this man had died

“I think he must be buried here. These are all the oldest graves. I doubt they would have overlaid the graves with their giant holes for the witches.”

“Maybe they did to cover up their mistakes. Forget entirely and you won’t feel so guilty.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

While we searched he did touch my butt by accident once. I’m glad he was distracted. I was redder than the sunset we basked in. Did he know how beautiful he was in all those golden tones?

He showed me the old gaming stores he used to go to. Where he grabbed dinner after skateboarding. We fought over getting food. I offered to get us dinner. He refused.

“Come on. Please. Let’s go get some food. I’m starving. I’ll even pay.”

“You’re not paying. I don’t care. Please stop. You’re pissing me off.”

“Fine.”

“If you’re hungry we can stop and get you food.”

“I don’t wanna eat if you’re not eating. I’ll get self-conscious.”

Remember when we made our plans. We figured we’d be together for 10 minutes. We’d get bored so fast. An hour passed. This was company we had missed. Next thing we knew it had been hours.

He took me to the skate park he grew up in. We met old friends. He broke his bracelet climbing on the pavilion. I was scared he was going to fall and break more. I guess he’s always been a daredevil.

“Be careful! Please don’t fall! Why are you even going up there?”

“I used to do it all the time. I was wondering if - I might be stuck.”

It became dark too fast. We decided to go home. He confessed more to me than I thought he would. Feelings of belonging and missing shots and expectations that we didn’t have.

“I honestly thought we wouldn’t get along this well. I thought you’d get bored of me. Or I’d get bored of you. Maybe it would have been more awkward. I don’t know. I thought we’d only spend an hour together but now it’s been all day...I don’t usually like talking about myself…”

There was always more he wanted to say. His face reads like a book. A story of how he was always so quiet and had never been the one with any place to glow. He was a firefly with a light that no one seemed to care to catch. And for one day, he was in my hands as if the whole world was my summer to share with him.

I don’t know what the world record is for quickest to fall in Love. But I think our 8 hours is the fastest I’ll ever go. I would have kissed him in the sunset during our graveyard mystery. I would have kissed him in the darkness when he dropped me off. I didn’t. Maybe that’s for the best. But I would have.

I left myself with so many questions. Sometimes I wonder if he ever noticed just how fast I was following his heartbeat. For so many others, poetry falls out my mouth like rain out of a cloud. For him, my mind is a dam that only ever let loose once.

Yesterday you took me

and for you I let my heart open.

I laid it out on the beach

and you called it beautiful

even amongst the seashells.

Our souls were the

tides meeting the sands.

Your eyes reflected the sun-

glowing and shining

until you might become my light.

For even a brief moment

I doubted myself.

For a moment

I almost wanted you-

I wouldn’t have complained.

Yesterday I almost rushed into you.

I fell in love

as if I had forgot my parachute.

I only hoped you’d be at the bottom

to catch me as I crashed.

Today I looked at you

and I stared into your eyes.

Something was missing.

We weren’t doing something right

and this was longing.

I leaned into you for a hug-

hold me a little longer.

I almost kissed you.

Why did I do that?

Why shouldn’t I?

I promised myself peace.

Said there isn’t a boy alive

who deserves what I have.

I promised myself time

to love and heal myself.

Today I cried out of confusion.

I’m tired of loving.

I’m tired of caring

but you make it so easy.

I could love you but I don’t want to.