6 A Life to Save #2
I opened the closet to choose what to wear for dinner.
Reflecting on the fact that, fortunately, life on the island made choosing what to wear quite easy, I was about to grab a pair of jeans and a T-shirt when you playfully asked if you could choose what I should wear.
The novelty intrigued me; it wasn’t easy to see you acting so playful, and I suppressed the urge to laugh.
Just watching you rummage through my clothes seemed strange to me, but I decided to play along.
You chose a white lace balconette bra, cream-colored silk culottes, white long-leg linen Bermuda shorts, and a white lace bodice.
I wanted to pick out your clothes, too, and I held up like trophies a pair of white linen Bermuda shorts just like mine, a cream-colored ’70s-style long-sleeved shirt with embroidery on the front, and cream-colored boxers.
That evening, we managed to leave the bungalow at a reasonable hour and were greeted by the lights of the lanterns illuminating the paths scattered throughout the resort.
We began walking hand in hand along the path leading to the restaurant.
Around the bungalows, crabs were busy digging burrows where they would spend the night, far from the moray eels on the hunt for prey.
The island was filled with intoxicating scents, and every now and then you’d gently press me against a palm trunk to kiss me tenderly.
I felt as though I had found my nighttime den with you, and whenever we passed through a patch of shadow, I’d take the opportunity to run my fingertips across my cheeks to wipe away the furtive tears welling up from my heart, overwhelmed by the emotions you were making me feel.
I never wanted to reach the end of that path scented with flowers and love.
Every time I looked up at the sky, you would cover the starry canopy with a light kiss on my lips.
The sensations that were pulling me away from reality made me float, as it were, in your eyes.
What I was experiencing didn’t even seem to belong to my own life.
I would have liked to ask you if it was the same for you, but I feared your answer and simply held your hand to convey all the love I felt for you.
The restaurant was already full, so we settled for a dimly lit corner spot near the railing.
The state of mind I’d found myself in, despite myself, prevented me from enjoying the dinner; I’d lost my appetite and was on the verge of bursting into tears.
You noticed that something was wrong with me and asked the waiter to bring me a surprise dessert.
The warm slice of apple strudel that was placed right in front of me didn’t seem to have the desired effect.
We got up in silence and walked toward the end of the pier.
We sat on the edge of the platform, dangling our legs over the calm waters of the lagoon.
The night was clear, and a myriad of stars were peeking out onto the balcony of our dream.
Sighing, I rested my head on your shoulder.
The silence was broken by your inevitable question: “What’s troubling you, my darling?”
I didn’t answer, because even I didn’t know what was inside me.
I knew I was so happy with you. Despite this sense of bliss and gratitude for the chance to be together in my paradise, I felt a subtle sadness deep in my heart.
I tried to chase it away by kissing you, but nothing happened.
I didn’t feel at ease and wanted to get out of that situation.
I looked at you for a long time and realized that I could no longer do without you.
I knew that returning from vacation would be traumatic for me, and I hoped you’d be willing to double your love so I wouldn’t feel abandoned.
I wanted to tell you so many things, to share my feelings with you; instead, I could only ask you to hold me tight and never let me go.
I could see that you were a little disappointed by my words.
You were surely expecting a more concrete conversation from me.
You wanted to help me stop being my own worst enemy, but it seemed to you that I was deliberately refusing to give you any foothold to help me.
“Now look at me and try to figure out what’s inside you that’s making you feel this way. I know you love me so much, but I sense you’re at the mercy of conflicting emotions,” you told me as tactfully as possible.
“All right,” I managed to say with great anguish, “I’ll tell you what’s tearing my soul apart: the immense joy I feel scares me. I’m terrified of letting myself go completely with my emotions, because I fear a rude awakening. I’m afraid of being happy, because once I reach this awareness,
I wouldn’t want to go back.”
I’m trying to force down a question that’s struggling to break free and scream to the world: what if one day you no longer love me?
What would become of me? My love, hold me so tight it hurts; I want to convince myself that this is reality—a dreamlike reality.”
You stood there listening to me, gazing at the starry sky, as if searching for the right words to say to me at the end of my confession.
I never would have believed that what I’d just told you had shaken you so deeply.
Looking me in the eyes, you replied solemnly: “My love, being lucky enough to meet you was like seeing a light in my darkness. I gave you my heart and soul from the very first day, promising myself I’d never let you feel sad by my side. I’ll do everything I can to make sure your smile never fades.
Be at peace, and don’t cry anymore—except for the joy of being with me.” Your words were a balm for my soul.
I pressed my trembling lips against yours, as a tiny salty tear sealed a tender kiss of love.
We returned to the bungalow just before dawn.
Although we felt emotionally drained, we began undressing each other.
The gentleness of your hands on my skin sent shivers down my spine, and the light in your eyes made me realize you’d noticed.
I pretended not to notice and began undressing you in turn, though I couldn’t seem to make you shiver.
I was hurt by this, so I quickly put on a pair of white silk pajamas with thin black stripes, adorned with a small red bow tie at the collar, and stepped out onto the veranda without saying a word, leaving you alone and half-naked.
I sat in the hammock, listening to the sea with my eyes closed, swaying slowly.
Shortly afterward, you arrived with two glasses of champagne and a sullen look on your face. “What’s gotten into you now?” you asked me, carefully modulating your voice and expecting an answer that defied all logic.
“Nothing,” I replied dismissively, immediately regretting it, and hurried to confess my feelings to you all at once: “All right, I can’t and won’t hide anything from you. I can’t make you feel the same intensity of emotion that you make me feel.
Sometimes I get the impression that you’re leaving on a trip without saying goodbye,” I replied seriously.
I never would have expected you to laugh at my words.
I climbed out of the hammock, dramatically handing the champagne glass back to you.
If I’d stopped there, it would have been fine, but I was in the mood to vent everything that was tearing my soul apart, so I continued: “Get drunk on your own and take a cue from the snails!”
For fear of pushing it too far, I didn’t point out that these cute little creatures were hermaphrodites.
It was our first pseudo-argument, and the strange thing was that I was convinced of what I’d just blurted out in one breath.
You’d understood what I meant by mentioning those little creatures with retractable horns: “So does that make me a hermaphrodite?”
you asked me, somewhere between amused and offended.
Without waiting for my answer, you tossed aside the glasses and started chasing me. You managed to catch up to me at the bungalow door, grabbed me without further ado, and dragged me to the hammock, then climbed in with me in your arms.
I squirmed like a spoiled little girl, but your kisses began to calm me down.
Still, I was flustered, and you started covering every inch of my skin with kisses again, making me shiver all over once more.