Footprints - 3. Chapter 3

Step back.

You can’t rely on lust to carry through a relationship and that’s what this man is; relationship material, not a piece of meat dangling before your vision playing with the intense desire in your jeans. Your mind screams out for his body but what will remain afterwards if not Shame and Sadness. For a moment you consider the horrors that will follow. No matter that it’s been four years since your last sexcapade, the hard on will have to wait. He has dreams. He has a goal. He has a family. Friends. You want to know. Get to know him.

‘Wait.’ Your voice hangs in the air.

He scrunches his forehead. His lips tighten. “What? Did I do or say something wrong?’

‘No. Not at all. How about lunch? I bet you’re hungry.’

‘Yes I am, but…’

‘That settles it then. I’ll make lunch for us.’

This is the first time you wish you were inside his head, reading his thoughts.

‘I’m sure I said something wrong,’he says. ‘I’m so sorry if I did. I mean, we’ve only just met and I feel like a teenager.’ He sits on a kitchen chair as you prepare prawns and oysters, tomato and cucumber.

‘William. I…I’m nervous. I told you that. You’re a known sportsman. I’m a nobody and you have something that I don’t have. Ambition. I can’t allow myself to be the one to end your dreams.’

He shakes his head and grins. ‘Is that the only reason?’

‘No. It isn’t. There’s more. It’s called lust. I don’t want that. I fear that I’ll never see you again if we have sex. I’d rather just be your friend if you can handle that.’

‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’ll never see you again, but that will be your doing, not mine. I’m not that kind of a person.’

‘I don’t do that to people. Their hearts and souls mean a lot to me. I don’t fuck things up. I speak from experience. I have been a one night stand too many times in my life. I don’t want that.’

He stares without saying a word. You study his face. The smooth lines, the feint blonde stubble on his chin, the dimple on his left cheek. Silence has a thunderous effect on conversation. Especially one as important as this.

Eventually. ‘Are you rejecting me?’

The knife falls from your hand. ‘What? No way! I’m afraid that you’ll reject me. I want you. But not like this.’

He climbs off the chair and approaches. Reaches out. Fingers lightly on your face. There are tears in his eyes as he leans in. His kiss is short but meaningful. ‘I understand. I’m sorry if you thought that all I want from you is sex. That’s not so. I would love to get to know you better.’

‘Thank you. You have no idea how much that means to me.’

‘I do know. I want the same.’

You eat on the patio. Tankers on the horizon. Gulls whirling in the air.

‘I would have thought that an Olympic swimmer would have his trainer tagging along.’ You say between bites.

‘My trainer's on leave. Seychelles. Returns in a fortnight. He insists I train in the club pool, but I have other ideas. My strength won’t come from pool training. The ocean gives me strength. It’s like there’s more resistance in the water. It breathes, and it’s like the water is trying to stop me. By the time Craig gets back I’ll probably have increased my swim time by at least thirty seconds.’

‘It’s a novel way of training I’ll give you that. If you need any help while you’re training here, just shout.’

‘You’d help me? Man, that’s mint. You could check my time during various stages. Would you do that?’

‘I’d love to.’

‘Time me to the buoy. Time my swim back. If I get lazy, kick my butt.’

‘Your team, do they know that you’re gay?’

‘Yes. They accept me unconditionally.’

‘What’s not to accept about you?’

‘You’ll see. I’m not all perfect. But, enough about me, what about you?’

He takes your hand and holds it to his mouth, kissing gently.

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Anything you care to tell.’

‘I bought this place six years ago. I was involved with someone whom I thought was the most perfect man. He worked in Durban. Had to travel everyday. 120 kilometres, there and back every day. One day he didn’t come home. Still hasn’t. It’s been four years now.’

‘That sucks. How could anyone do that?’

‘He never said. No note. No telephone call, well, not from him anyway. A work colleague of his called me. She said that I could keep all of his stuff. He wouldn't be returning. ‘

‘Just like that.’

Yes, just like that. You felt sorry for yourself. You had given him three of the best years of your life. You never argued. Never snapped. Never resorted to conflict. It was the end of your world as you knew it.

‘I cried for weeks on end. Didn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Hollow. It’s been four years now. I haven’t bothered about men. Or women. I decided then and there, never again. I will never be hurt again. And so I paint, and collect furniture. I know they can’t hurt me.’

‘I...I’m so sorry.’

‘Thank you. But, you don’t need to be. It wasn’t you.’

‘I know. It’s just that I never want to be hurt. I can only imagine what it must be like.’

‘You’ve never fallen in love?’

‘No. My swimming has taken care of that aspect of my life. Dedicated.’ He laughs. It’s a bright shiny morning laugh and you stare at him as though he is the only man on earth. ‘But, I would like to fall in love. I mean, I would love for someone to teach me about this guy called love. I have no idea what he looks like or what he wears, I don’t know what he eats or what he dislikes. I know I want to know.’

It’s taken you thirty to minutes to fall in love.

The butterflies in your tummy are a sure signal. The man fits. The desire. The wanting. The pain has begun. The limerance has commenced. Since yesterday he has been intrusive in your thoughts and you’re walking on air because there is reciprocation. He has made you talk about the past, made you deal with it, and everything else is in the background. There’s nothing wrong with him. Nothing negative. Everything positive. Above all, he turns you on, and you know you turn him on. But there is a lingering question. Is this infatuation? You’re thirty. The internet says he is 20. Is this limerence respectable? Of course it is. Here are the beginnings of deeper feelings that will last as long as the relationship. It could be a life-time because you two blend together in an emotional bonding. You seek love. He wants to learn.

‘You’re quiet,’ he says.

‘Sorry, I was thinking. What time do you need to get back?’

‘I didn’t specify a time. I told my parents to expect me when they see me.’

‘You did?’ A smile sweeps across your face.

‘Yup. They weren’t too happy about it, but they know I can look after myself.’

‘Wanna take a walk on the beach?’

‘I’d love to.’

It has stopped raining.

Hand in hand you trudge along the shore. The sand is thin, the waves cool. He runs and dares you to catch him. He’s fast. It takes all your energy to catch up and make the dive. You’re both on the sand, he’s trying to escape your grip, you’re trying to keep him from running. After a few minutes he gives up, stares into your eyes, and kisses you gently. There is no need for words as you try to build a sandcastle, but you know the rising tide will wash it away and tomorrow there will only be a few heaps.

Are you building a sandcastle?

To be continued...