I’ve learned, all things end. I remember, years ago, onea the local college baseball playing studs I idolized, got divorced. I couldn’t believe it. I looked at him with scorn. Stupid, I know, but I did.
Then…. After I’d jumped in the pool… swam, sunned, did the backstroke, uh huh the breaststroke… we got separated somehow by the ropes… During the 7 year itch, there wasn’t a lotion made that could stop it… Presto, single Victor. I hid. I was embarrassed. I CAN’T BE DIVORCED. Step up to the plate Big Daddy, you are. And I was.
I dove headlong back into the pool not long after… Side beside in our floating chase lounges… Lotion on her back, same to me… Long, long wet kisses… We’d hug so damn tight, the only thing that could ply between was my beloved stepson… And then came more water wings… Holy shit. How do we keep four eyes on each other when one isa following’ that one, and the other isa eyeballing that one? Wait. Gotta get outta the pool, car payments due. Screw it honey, we’ve got Visa. So we lounged s’more. After many, many good years - one never put their swimsuit on again. Things changed. The water wrinkles were outta our hands. The pool looked so sad - and waveless. No more swimming.
I am a mindless idiot. I really think I got married the first time because I was scared, all my friends were getting married, I did like her, close your ears - ‘that’ was very good. So we did. We jumped before watching each other swim very long.
Second time. I CAN’T BE SINGLE. “That” was very very good. So we jumped in the water, hardly knowing one another. While we were lucky - we did learn to swim synchronized - there was always this wonder of “why are we making it?” (There was an age difference. There was a bedroom difference. There was a compromise difference.) In retrospect, I know, the negative way stands out. And I truly think I was very close to my soul mate. Is it ever perfect? It’s that hope that I hold out for. Perfect doesn’t have to mean perfect. Perfect to me, perfect for her. Not perfect.
As we age, insteada the diving board - or the belly buster from the concrete, we ease ourselves back into the water. If it’s not appealing - we get restless.. And get out… Sometimes one simply wants to swim side by side - and the other’s mind can’t get off other things/people. It’s hard to swim congruently when you start at an older age.
My problem, insteada sunning side by side and learning all about onea nuther - we go straight from the dressing room to the pool. The titillation of the pool clouds one (or both) with depression. It’s difficult to yell/be loud when swimming - but I’ve gotten out of the pool before due to that. Sure, I’ve had my imperfections pointed out - and the swim meet was shortly thereafter over. Tis cool. She will know how to talk about my imperfections so that I will save my self esteem. And vise versa. It’s RARE I’ve been deep. I wanna. I wanna explore the deep end. We spend so many years in the wading pool - in the three foot area - jumping off the board and getting out quickly. I want deep. Together. Learning. Teaching without belittling.
I do think she’s out there. I want for me, and I want to give: honesty. :loyalty. Sense of humor. Touch. Sharing never getting too ‘up’ about anything. (Well “that” would be Ok ).. Never getting too low for any reason. Ne’er a terse word. Agreeing to disagree. Smiles when we see each other. Proudness when we see them doing something we know is tough for them. Thanking them, for mostly nothing - except being there. No false promises. Actions, not talk. Respect for the other, and for all other people. Compromise - without going overboard to make things lopsided. Random acts of I love you.
It’s hard this finding a swimming mate. Some don’t like the sun. Some wanna play games - u know - like Marco Polo. Some, all they wanna do is sprints down the lanes, never stopping to hug and smooch in the water. Some, it doesn’t take to long to realize “huh uh” when “the water’s too cold”, “I’ve got chlorine in my eyes”, “I can’t believe that little slut is wearing that outfit.” I’ve found, at 54, I’m still fairly spry in exiting the water.
I still think we’re out there somewhere.
Trite perhaps:
Rubber Ducky, you're the one,
You make swimtime lots of fun,
Rubber Ducky, I'm awfully fond of you;
Rubber Ducky, you're so fine
And I'm lucky that you're mine
Rubber ducky, I'm awfully fond of you.
True, sometimes swimming ain’t all it’s quacked up to be.
I will forever watch for my Darryl “Splash” Hannah.. You're my very best friend, it's true! (doo doo, be doo.)
Like grandpa usedta say when he dropped us off a the pool when we were kids…. “Don’t get your feet wet.” (If I’da only heard the deep lesson in that about sunning for awhile first, I may not be in this boat!)… Love, Victurd. (AFFLAC)
No comments:
Post a Comment