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Why did I let her in?
She’s balancing the endless tides coursing through my veins, and correlating my systems instead of corrupting them.
It doesn’t mean she should be here.
Yet, I’m more peaceful knowing she’s somewhere safe, being watched over and taken care of. That way Bette rests in my garage all well and sparkly after I washed her this morning.
No worrisome problems she needs to face. As long as I can help in any way I can, I will.
I miss our online chats. I stayed away from this type of conversation, yet, it was different with her. It opened up a portal inside me that longed to show this side of me. Somehow the need to feel needed played a strong part in our interaction.
Not just wanted. I know that part is there.
For the first time in my life, I felt like someone needed me and that appealed to me beyond reason.
I finish my set but instead of taking a shower, I head toward the backdoor, catching her basking under the sun next to Scar on the beach chair.
The fucker is always with her.
Slightly nodding my head sideways and rolling my eyes, I grab my surfboard and stride to the ocean.
A nice surfing session could be the cure.
I get inside the shallowed waters, slowly walking inside and dragging my palm along the surface. Feeling the tides.
No waves.
Everything is stagnant.
More often than not it does before an awesome wave rises and breaks the silence.
I start to paddle a bit, crossing a fair distance and the hairs on the back of my neck stand. My ears perk up to the sound of a muted rebellion that is taking place underwater.
Something is coming.
And someone is watching.
I can sense her eyes on me, assessing each shift of my movement.
A slow breeze blows in my face, I breathe it in, shutting my eyes and connecting to my surroundings.
As soon as I open them again, water starts rising across from me, rolling and collecting the blanket of water into a growing wave.
Paddling fast, I manage to approach it right in time to adjust to a standing position. As the wave breaks behind me, I surf through the curling lip.
Centering myself, I crouch a bit for balance purposes and drag my hand on the shallow surface of the lip.
The tube is like the barrel of a loaded gun and I’m the bullet that is sliding through the muzzle—exiting smoothly.
I ride down a wave and swerve the board on a few small ones as I continue to catch them and steer my board across the water.
That was awesome!
My audience, consisting of a very curious bunny, surely paid attention to every single maneuver I performed. I partially wanted to getherattention, yet, it was mostly done to calm me the fuck down.
Love…
One time is all it took to fuck my head about it. Build the walls around me and barricade myself for years upon years. And watch me walk out of every possible chance at a new, healthy relationship with someone.
