You know those moments when you're dumbstruck at finding out that someone really was listening while you prattle on and on endlessly?
Yes. That was my weekend. Not the prattling on part, the dumbstruck one.
The heated 'cottage' Ben hinted at over his shoulder which I had to jump to catch because he's very tall (don't talk away from me) and I'm very small (and almost deaf besides) was an eight-bedroom picture-perfect house with a path that led straight to the beach and is so not available in the off-season I don't even begin to want to guess what he paid for it. All I was permitted to do was breathe and walk on the beach and draw a little and ask when I wanted orange juice. I was not permitted to wear any clothing after dark, blow out any candles I might come across or worry about anything, which is easier said than done but I might have pulled it off.
Sometimes Ben can be the weirdest, most closed-in person, running ahead of life on a slightly-different plane than everyone else, being strange and difficult and aloof and quiet and hard to read and just when I think he doesn't hear me or notice me or cave to my whims (as extravagant as they can be), he strikes me dumb and hits every last detail and then a whole bunch more that I didn't think to consider. He says he hates the princess complex as much as every other human being I've ever spoken to and then he goes and perpetuates it to the extent that I am left stunned by how much he loves me.
There is a reason the house isn't available year-round. The wind was freezing cold and relentless, ice choked off the surf, the rocks slippery along the breakwater and the nights so dark and desolate you wondered if you reamined on earth, or still yet, if anybody else did.
Ben brought the light with him, having bought fireworks and dozens of candles in town, for the three-point-two seconds we lasted outside after he set off the fireworks and I clapped my hands appreciatively. We ran back to the house and once inside he locked the door behind us and shoved his freezing cold hands under my coat, my shirt, against my skin and ran them down into my jeans and I howled and beat on his arms and he just laughed and pinned me harder until I was begging for things I usually fight against.
Of the thirty-six hours I was AWOL from home, I was in Ben's arms, nose pressed way up against his collarbone for thirty and the other six I was hand in hand with him, our fingers woven together and locked tight in a way that kind of makes you throw away the past in a huge rush of empty cold space that vanishes forever and you were glad you couldn't feel it when it left you because it would have been the most unpleasant experience you could ever imagine.
I never see Ben that relaxed. Ever.
Early this morning I opened my eyes to the fleeting sun and then he blocked it out, looking down at me and saying he wished we didn't have to but he had to get me home and then he had to fly back to where work is right now but on Saturday he is home again. For a while.
We packed up our things and took the house keys to the owner in town and then the happiness drained out of Ben's eyes as we drove to the airport to get on planes again. He didn't have enough time to come all the way home and see the kids. We parted ways at Logan because he thinks somehow I can manage flying home alone, and I proved that I can.
He went straight through to his gate after leaving me at mine and then when there was no time left he came back and kissed me so hard my whole face tingled the whole way home and I came out of arrivals by myself to August's easy hand with my fingers on my lips, once again holding fast to blow those hollow kisses that are never caught.
Just like that.
Did you have a good time?
Yeah, we did. It was incredible.
Then what's wrong?
Not enough time.
Hey, he'll be home before you know it.
I know.
I'm sure they think we just argued the entire time, or maybe we just didn't get enough time to unwind because of the urgency of the trip and the insane timeline we met but they don't really get it. I took a full breath while I was there, a deep one, the kind that fills up your whole body right down to your toes. I didn't think about anything. I left my ghosts at home, which is something I've been learning to do with little success up until now, and I felt like I was normal. Average. Alive, even.
It's amazing how the past three days could fly past but the next three will crawl. Worth it, though. Worth it by far.
