Leaving Jessica
Day 0Goodbyes, and that last kiss. Ah, the memories of the kiss.
As I turned my back and walked away from the convertible, my lips still tingling from that last kiss, a half-smile stole across my face as I saw the man sitting on a bench with his luggage. He had been watching me, but as my eyes settled on him, his eyes quickly darted to his phone as he pretended he hadn’t been watching with envy.
“That’s right, mate,” I silently told him, “ask yourself ‘who is that beautiful woman in the zooty convertible and how on earth was I with her? Was she someone famous? She looks like she should have been.’”
The half-smile became a full-fledged grin as I floated across the concourse.
I get a call from Gary while I’m on the phone to someone else. I’m in between flights, so don’t have time to answer it. He leaves a message. I forget to call him back. I get another call from Gary. I disconnect it. He leaves another message.
My sister told me it was lovely to have me here, once we got back to her place. My normal response, both for the sake of manners and because I felt the same way, would have been to reciprocate; “It’s lovely to be here.” I said it anyway, except that it wasn’t true. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be away from my Jessica. I felt a little guilty about that, but I had to admit it was the truth.
Feels Like Home
Around 9 o’clock, I felt like I was about to peg out, so bade everyone goodnight. A kiss and a hug from my niece and sister. Even though they felt nothing like them, they made me think of your hugs, which just feel like home every time. →
Adelaide to Sydney
Sydney to Port Macquarie
Port Macquarie to Taree
Km’s Travelled: 2100
The Rain Was Like Quiet Music
It was wet. It had been drizzling on and off all the way back from the airport and soon enough after arriving at Taree, the rain started in earnest. It rained solidly through to bedtime, and it rained through the night and all of the following morning. Rain can sometimes make me feel melancholy, sometimes comforted. On this occasion, the rain was like quiet music in the background as my thoughts wandered, and random memories floated through my mind like little vignettes, or maybe trailers.
As soon as I climbed into bed, I was assailed by a thought – a sensation – so strong it was almost physical. I could feel your body settle into my arm, your head against my chest. Such peace. You didn’t complain that I was on my back and might snore. As if I would. ↓
Then consciousness departed as, with you in my arms, I fell quickly into a contented sleep, but I wasn’t aware of the change from memory to dream. They were the same in my mind. The vision changed and I was no longer on my back. Instead, I was remembering – almost physically real again – the feel of your body under mine and the exquisite sensation as we moved together to an ancient rhythm.
So familiar, so comfortable, so natural
I had been fooled by the rain into thinking it was cold. It wasn’t. The doona I had put on the bed was surplus to needs and the heat woke me up just long enough to allow me to throw it off to the side, before drifting off again. I had no idea how much time passed before I moved to the right and felt the doona down the length of my leg. In my mind, it felt like your leg and I started in surprise to a half-awake state, then felt crestfallen that my dream creation was nothing more than that, and that you hadn’t joined me. (But it did convince me that had you cuddled me on Sunday morning, I would have woken) You hadn’t joined me. I was still alone. How could your presence through the night become so familiar, so comfortable and so natural in such a short period of time? The answer is not important. It just has. I feel like you were always meant to be there. It hurts so good, I almost want to cry.
Oh my goodness. Oh my goodness. I have to balance myself before I read the next piece.