Hope I didn't speak too soonIt's windy on the beach today, so much so that it feels like fall. The water is dark, the waves choppy, the big boats far off into the blinding white sun, away from the shore. It's Wednesday and it's almost like I can reach out with one finger and stop the world from rotating for no one is visible from here. It's as if we've been dropped onto an uninhabited planet if only it weren't for the same story going around and around and around, at thirty-three rpm or one complete revolution around the sun over twenty-four hours exactly. It doesn't matter if this is a turntable or an orbit, frankly.
My eyes have always
Followed you around the room
Cause you're the only
God that I will ever need
I'm holding on and waiting for the moment
For my heart to be unbroken by the sea
And that is his argument at present.
Because today he is the one who looks like a teenager, balanced on a rock above the shore, jeans wet up to the knees, eyes squinched up in the sunlight, head of red curls unbrushed and tangled, turned to face me sometimes but only out of habit and certainly not because I am all that interesting. I'm only listening today, and not talking back.
He hates that, you see.
That's why I do it.
I don't have much else to offer because he wouldn't listen even if he knew I think he's right and he makes perfect sense but at the same time so does everyone else.
I can't hear the music either, playing through my headphones that are tucked into the zipper of my hoodie. But I know it's playing, just like I know he's right. Some things just are. The moon always rises and this sun will always set. You can set your watch by Lochlan's ability to point out the sheer practicality of a feeling or an action and then he'll turn around and blow his own theory full of holes while everyone else ducks for cover from the blast.
It's sort of interesting when that happens.
He said once, if I stay at home and work two jobs I can make enough for college and then graduate without any debt. That would give me a leg up on life.
And then he left and went on the road with the show and with me, where we made downwards of fifty dollars a day between us and stole the rest and came home with empty pockets and emptier stomachs. He paid off his student loans three years ago. College waited for Lochlan long after everyone else was finished. I never finished at all.
He said once, if you were smart, you'd take Ben's offer and never look back. He's fun, he cares a hell of a lot for you and he's trying so hard, Bridget. He loves you.
And then he left because he couldn't stick around to watch it because it wasn't him and it wasn't fair and it wouldn't last and it doesn't matter how hard Ben tries, Ben can't undo history this deep.
Because our history is deeper than this ocean, deeper than the deepest, darkest, coldest part of the sea and that's why I should talk to him instead of just listening because you can't have an argument if only one person is fighting. That hasn't stopped him, not one little bit. He's still talking, I haven't said a word since eight fifteen this morning.
And he's talking fast. Fast because he has so much he wants to say and fast because there is not much time to do it. You see time is the enemy and he's rushing but at the same time he's been standing on that rock for the better part of forty-five minutes throwing out thoughts and admonishing me to hurry up and then he stares out to sea while he comes up with something else that he thinks might clinch it.
It's sort of amazing to view him so objectively.
I keep raising my eyebrows every time he turns his back because suddenly I no longer understand him at all, how his actions can go one way and his words another but it's okay because the sea will mix it all back together on my behalf, depositing it on the shore, frosted smooth and rounded by the sand, lighter so it's left behind for me to find.
I tighten my ponytail with both hands and resume my search for more of those words that match the actions. Slim pickings today. Just like always.