Swim [875]

For some brief context: I haven't written anything non-academic in 13-ish years and felt like writing for fun. I decided to write about a breakup a year ago and just felt like sharing. Appreciate any thoughts!

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Darkness flooded his vision. Briefly, he found himself able to shut it all out. For the first time that night, he heard the subdued roar of ocean waves sweeping dutifully into the shore. It was not that the water had been gentle all this time that they had been out there. It was that in the hours they had sat perched atop this lifeguard tower, mere footsteps and teenage uninhibition away from diving joyfully into the seawater, only now had the voices in his head, and the frantic beating of his heart, quieted long enough for him to register anything else around him. Even then he processed the sound only vaguely. The crisp smell of ocean air was no more successful in distracting his hectic spirit. He simply was not capable--or rather, was not receptive. After all, he was far more focused on trying to stop the most important person in his life from leaving.

He opened his eyes again but could not bear to turn his head sideways. To do so would be to acknowledge the situation, and with that the surreality that accompanied it. Moreover, he would yet again have to tackle the Herculean task of seeking the magic words that could remedy this forsaken situation. Despite searching all night for such a panacea, his quest had been for naught. If such a grail did indeed exist, it was far too shrouded in the mist for him to discover it.

All his mind allowed him to conceive of in this moment were questions he already knew the answer to. After all, the fact that they were even here meant that, long ago, she had already known what she would say. And the fact that she had already known what she would say meant that she had already decided she would leave. In the midst of this all he knew that, in a way, he was tricking himself. After all, he had stood before the grail many times that night--if not throughout this whole ordeal-- only to turn away from it and set off along another well-trodden path. It was not because he did not want to save this. It was because, in order to do so, he would not be able to save himself.

The reality of it all was that, in fact, he had felt this coming as well. He did not know the exact words she would utter. He certainly did not anticipate her to be sobbing to such a degree that it seemed like she was experiencing more pain than he was at this given moment. And, if he was being honest, he thought that by now he would have dampened far more than solely his right cheek. All of these factors, these inputs that his mind dully registered, only raised more questions, although no longer asked and answered. Chiefly, he wondered whether his non-response was the reason he was in this situation at all.

He did not try to recount past events in his mind. He was simply incapable. The present before him was far too ominous, and the entirety of his being remained fixating on finding a world in which he did not have to confront it. They may have spoken at greater length at this point. Their hands may have interlocked again with an urgency that had long escaped them. Their lips may have found each other once more with similar, forgotten fervor. None of it mattered. These actions, whether he initiated them or not, simply could not deter the powerful inertia of her mind made, nor did they ease the pain that came hand-in-hand with his begrudging acceptance of such patent truth.

It was only after he found himself on the freeway once again, now alone, barely registering the roads and lights in front of him, that he seemed to realize the gravity of what had just occurred. They say often that you should make yourself whole, and that you should be complete without the presence of anyone else in your life. He believed this firmly. He knew, without actually knowing, and without actually thinking, that he would be okay. In fact, he did not know or understand how okay he would actually be. Right now, however, nothing before him could make him believe that he had not just involuntarily relinquished some aspect of his very being.

Perhaps the greatest irony was that he had engineered this outcome, long ago, the moment he committed to fostering a specific connection between the two of them, and forced her to conform to the confines of such a mold. Had he only chosen not to show her the vastness of the world that lay before them, perhaps she would have never resolved to explore it. As he continued hurtling along the highway, however, this alternate reality played out like a feature film that he entertained rather than a world he was berating himself for failing to create. Never had he ever wanted to enclose them. In fact, he thought that they had been building the vehicle with which they would take flight this entire time. It was only now that he understood no bond was strong enough to support one set of wings. After all, few are ever resolute enough to even tether two.