It might be over. This season of slip and glide. This time of meditation in immersion. This relationship I have nurtured since she warmed for me in May.
But I did not say good bye. I did not know it was the last time I would see her. Become lost in her breath. Breathe my breath into her. I did not know.
Monday she gripped me. Tight clutching at my ribs. Held my heart in her chill, causing its racing, thumping in my throat. Let go of my fingers and feet till I could not feel them.
Yet I stayed in her. Kept going. Found folds in her to hide in. Still water to glide in. I turned and churned from end to end, could not stop myself…even though my mind was saying…..too far….this is too far….you have yet to go back. Go back.
You see it is only when I have gone too far that I come to know what too far is. I turn toward the friendly beach house. Watch it wink as I grapple with cold and fatigue. All the time sitting, squat like Buddha on the beach. Smiling my safe return.
I have seen Monday’s warm air consumed by chill and rain. My wetsuit dry from disuse, hanging in the corner of my room. Not yet put away. Just out of sight. I do not have to be reminded of my loss every minute of my house-walking day.
I have seen the ten day forecast. The numbers that drop too low not by degrees but like cascading waters. I scan the future. Highs squeaking into the forties, or not even sneaking into the thirties. Lows so low my fingers freeze feeling them. I look for the day where winter’s reprieve might take me back into her. Just once. Just one more day before I say good bye.
You see the difficulty I have saying it is over. You see the wanting in me. Every day I weather watch and every day I pass, leaving it hanging there. My Dry Wet Suit.
……Just one more day. I bargain. ….Just one more day.
But I know this is a lie. I know I want to Fall into her again and again. The lazy freedoms I have when Summer finishes. When only regulars wade deep into her arms. We slip in and glide alone together through her. Each knowing our own whys. Each putting off the day when it might be over.
Yes, it might be over.