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on the beach of my dream college, my partner starts her vintage camp stove.
it is dark until the lights on the opposite shore, showing a glimpse of houses i see in my dreams.
im sitting on a log with a boy and his guitar i met in a way i didn't expect, as far as meeting someone special.
behind me i hear the now familiar sounds of my partner preparing us all a warm drink of cocoa. gentle clinks of well used metal.
it brings me new-found comfort.
i look out at the silent water, my partner, and spare a lingering look at the boy, his face silhouetted by the gentle glow of the stove, his jaw is sharp and he is beautiful.
...
the only sounds i hear are the soft wooshes from her stove, the gentle, random plucking of his guitar, and an otter playing in the shallows.
my partner joins us on the log and pulls out her old zippo she just got working. she strikes it and the small flame fills our tiny circle of the world with a gentle, flickering light. her face strikes me with ethereal beauty and her eyes glitter with comfort and serenity. the light is bright on the boys high cheekbones. i am surrounded by beauty and love.
i get on my knees in front of the boy and settle into the sand. i know i am dirtying my favorite vintage jeans, yet i lay my head in his lap. the lap that has come to bring me much comfort. the neck of the guitar just inches from my head as he plays. he assures me i am not in the way. i steal a glance at my love from between the arm and thigh of the boy. i stare at her in search of any sign of discomfort, yet she looked content as she stared across the sound. she doesn't see me looking at her. i nuzzle into his lap for a while and listen to the beautiful sounds of that strange little box of wood.
...
i begin to walk the 100 feet or so down to the waterline, the boy passes me as i walk and i expect to hear my wifes sand crunching footsteps behind me, yet i dont. all i hear is the familiar clink of well used metal as she begins to clean camp. time slows, my heart quickens, and that 100 or so feet becomes 100 or so miles. i am being given the opportunity to tell him.
i stare at my love for 10 seconds or 10 minutes, and continue to follow the boy.
the water is still and gentle and he is staring across the water. pensive. deep in thought.
i ask if i can see his hand. it is small and soft, yet sturdy and rough as a mans.
my heart is in my throat.
i ask if i can tell him something, and suddenly his deep brown eyes are locked on mine and i falter, blushing in the dim star light. he playfully acts as though he will never look at me again.
i glance back up the beach at my life.
i grab his face and pull it back to me gently, as i often do, and those wide eyes lock on mine again, yet i feel brave and confident. my other hand hanging onto the collar of his shirt and bomber jacket
i am in love with him and this, i tell him. his eyes soften and narrow abit as he questions the profession.
i cup his cheek and i tell his eyes that i am in love with him.
he quickly looks away. panic? discomfort? fear?
i look at my partner, still packing. still here. my heart strangely calm.
his eyes see me again. they are deep with emotion and thought, his cheek still warm and soft in my palm. his eyes close gently and theres a soft sigh as he melts deeper into my palm and our bodies touch. i put an arm around him and kiss his strong neck and his soft cheek. i reassure him of my love for my partner and the only positive impact he has on us.
camp is clean, bags in the sand as we trek back to the car, my love still distant from us.
i fear she is scared. i fear she is upset. though i know she is not. my love is cautious. my love is strong. my love is smart. my love knows me. my love is my love.
in my dreams i see this college. in my dreams i see those big glass houses on the sound. in my dreams i see my love. i see my boy. i dream of us being his and him being ours.
...
the line of potential time where i am denied my boy, rests gently on the fringes of my thoughts, enough for me to be aware, yet i do not fear it. for if it comes to bear, i know i will always have my love, and my boy will be my friend and all will be well. all potential lines of time can be real, but not all of them will be. i dream of the line of time with my love, my boy, my glass sound home, and my college.
i dream, and well.. dreams...
...
11/27/24
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