He starts to climb it with the ease of a gymnast and his sense of balance allows him to jump from one giant rock top to the next. Me? I’m more like a crippled old lady with arthritis in my hips and nearly crawl on all fours to get up. I want to see the view from the top, and it is so worth it. We sit together and meditate with grateful awareness. The river enters the ocean right beneath our feet, and a ring of islands lies across from us. The ocean waves hit them and the high side of the river as it sweeps past us to meet the ocean in an almost parallel route behind the largest island. The sun shines starkly, brightly and brilliantly over it all. To our right, the river flows from an old-world, perfect marina that could be the subject of an idyllic painting of small-town beach life. Wow, do I love it.
It’s beyond amazing to make casual observations and he’s delighted with every reaction I have to it all.
“You really don’t get out much, do you? See what you’ve been missing?” He sweeps his hands out.
I gaze up at him, watching the wind rush over his face. His eyes are dark but shining and the corners of his mouth relax in complete ease. There is a serenity about him, which is new. “I see. I see now what I’ve been missing,” I say but my gaze is rigidly fastened on him.
He must gather something from my more serious tone because he drops his gaze from the view to me. We stare into each other’s eyes without moving. Or smiling. Without need for explanation or excuse. He leans down and his lips touch mine. Just as soft and pure and new as if it were my, I mean, our very first kiss.
It’s sorta weird to kiss. And hug. And touch. We look at each other with unmasked interest and sexy, heavy-lidded gazes or flirty smiles and smug eyes. It’s all so new. And no one is here to judge us. He was right to suggest doing this. We had to get away together to just see. Is it anything? Will it be just here? A vacation from real life? I don’t know. Or are we finally starting something real? Now we have the freedom to fully explore where it’s going to go.
Can something that started out as grief comfort for another woman really become just about us? I don’t know any of the answers, nor would I believe any of them. But damn. Does it feel nice today. Now. In this moment.