Years before, he saw her run across a bridge near Venice. He watched from the boat passing below her, grateful to catch a flash of her before she was gone.
Years later, on a train in Romania, he thought he saw her again, asleep against a man’s shoulder. This time, she was so still he couldn’t be entirely sure.
He spent the whole ride watching without attracting notice. He had wanted to find her for years, but he could barely believe he could have two such chances in a lifetime.
We needed room to breathe on that milestone day, but didn’t quite know why nor how much space we would need sooner rather than later. We found our way to the sea, following the waves’ piper call, innocent as children to what lay on the other side of that horizon.
The sun set while we sat on the steps. That sun, it was forever setting, sinking deeper by the day. Each disappearing ray waved goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.
Most people never choose to dive directly into muck, to submerge below algae-coated surfaces of stagnant pools. Under that bloom-skin, there is only dank, only dark, only that which chokes, confounds, confuses.
I prefer chlorine and filters, or the clarity of tropical seas. But down there in the darkness lies a long-sought answer, a key, a fulcrum to the lever that could change everything. I could leave it latent, but to dive deep means returning to the surface, peace between my palms.
Sometimes, love asks us to scale mountains, and other times, traverse the sea. We travel miles in search of the most right heart. We sift mementos from the journey to make sure we have chosen the most true itinerary.
When wayfaring finds companion, the connection is like a passport issued by a rare consulate. There is some greater authority there, in that place where we nestle tightly, set down the suitcase, and become, in that moment, our own new country.
* For EJ & JP on their wedding day
“I don’t believe in marriage,” said the man at the bar. “If you sign that piece of paper and you have a penis, you lose everything. My girlfriend could have anything I have. Anything. Except my Harley. If she touches my Harley, I’ll kill her.”
The sea emerged just before dawn, released to visible by the graying sky above. Darkness, rain, all of it had passed, even though there were still clouds overhead, still waves pounding rocks below. It took miles to get to the manifestation, and though I hadn’t slept nearly long enough, I couldn’t lie back down again. This was just the view I’d been waiting for.
Along that road, soaring trees dissolved into the rainy ink above. We left the car in the lane and walked the road as if it were built for pedestrians.
The sound of tires on the nearby highway whispered through the branches. I listened for cars that might be on our avenue.
No one else drives this in the dark, he said. Worry slipped from me like a leaf.
It would have been easy to take that moment for granted. After all, when all the trees tower like cathedrals, it’s hard to remember each one is monumental as a prayer.
100 Proof 