Memories Pt. 15

spring and summer, the beach.

It started at Sunnyside. I had been playing volleyball for years, indoors and out, through pain, fun and heartbreak. But at Sunnyside I got to play through love.

We hadn't been dating very long when you started to come down to watch. You loved to ride your bike and at first, I am sure, it was an excuse to ride down to the beach, your second favourite thing. If you had favourites.

But you did come to see me. We would speak on the phone and you'd say you'd come, but I never knew when you'd arrive. About half way through our second match, if I was facing the right way, I'd see you come around the corner of the pavilion. My eyes not being the best, I'd see the yellow beast first and slowly put your face on the rider as you approached. My attention would be gone, my heart would race and I would immediately try harder, knowing you were watching. Those were the lucky days.

Sometimes, we'd be facing the wrong way and I wouldn't know you were there until I heard your bell. That bell would ring and my heart would melt, my skin would flush and the hair would stand up on the back of my neck like some sort of divine pavlovian response. You see, I was smitten.

And you would be standing there, smiling, so happy to see your boy-whatever sweaty and sandy, running back and forth in front of a net. Trying his heart out to impress you with his mediocre skills. Afterwards, we would join the team for a drink and then head off on our own little adventures on our bikes, in the summer night.

Soon enough, you caught the bug. You wanted to play. Luckily, you had friends playing on a different night who needed a player and you, being you, dove right in just super excited to be there. And I followed you. I would come down every night to watch you play. Some nights I would find myself on the court helping out, but I prefered to watch you have fun. You just have such a wonderful spirit about you, carefree and open, willing to see the fun in everything.

Before long, we were playing together. It had its ups and downs. I was hard on you and you resented that, but I was so proud when you really started to improve. I never told you how proud I was of how you improved; how you got faster and willing to take more risks. No, not really risks, but chances. You took more chances because you started to know that you could. You knew that you'd be successful. And I was proud of that, too.

You play with you own team, far away from me now, but I know you still play with fire, with an eagerness to get better and I dream of seeing it, of seeing you.

I still play too, which you know, but I don't play with as much fire as I did. I lost some of the fun when I lost you. The laughter is gone. But tonight, tonight, it came back for a second, or maybe a piece of a second. You see, one of our teammates called out your name by mistake during a play and my heart turned over.

I died in that second.

You see, in that fraction of time, I remembered how much I wanted you there and then, well then I remembered that you weren't.