Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Wednesday, Jul. 20, 2005 @ 7:57 pm
We walk the same path as before and sure enough we meet the owl again. It is darker this time, the sky is navy blue and the trees are black sillhouettes. The owl too is just a black shape. Her head bobs around in circles - she's watching us. Is it anger? Or curiosity?
Dan puts his arm around me and we watch the owl for a while. He leans over me and kisses me... over his shoulder I see the owl hunker down and then leap off the branch, unfurling huge silent wings. It swoops low over our heads.
I love you, he says.
How? You must be joking. I did it again. But I don't say any of this. I just stare back and search his eyes: one brown eye intently focussed, one eye blackened and sagging slightly off-center.
The weekend comes and I pretend that there is only one love in my heart. We sail the ferry and drive the winding Sunshine Coast highways, set up camp in the rain and run to the lake.
I swim from the beach out to the floating dock. I stand, stretch my arms out into the rain and feel the water run down my face, tickle my tongue, trickle down my back. Laughter from the campground, and a smokey mist from the evergreen forest edge. So alive, I dive into the black, trusting that the water is deep and safe.
On the way home on the ferry I step around a corner while he has his back turned. I sit down in the shade, knowing that he won't look here. Why did I do this? I sit alone and half-wish for the loneliness of solo travel. Why do I act like this around him? I had a tantrum over the undercooked eggs one morning. I stomped off and said I wasn't hungry, and then sulked for a while.
Back in the city, I talk to Dan. Gossip has travelled. Who is she seeing? Who is she sleeping with? He said, she said, he said, she said. I talk to Dan and we agree to end this - it's too messy, too complicated, not a good way to start things.
Minutes later he's in tears, breaking our vow of no communication. I just wanted to tell you that I love you and will always love you. I never felt this before, this love, and I owe that to you. You changed my life...
"With great power comes great responsibility," he tells me. He knows my heart is a superpowerful instrument of love. Now, how to learn to be a superhero of love instead of a superhero of heartache.
I have my eyes closed, and he's fastening something around my wrist: a surprise. I open my eyes to a heavy silver bracelet. Silver chain handcuffing me... it weighs me down... binds me up... Regret is Hell?