The Currents
He whispers “I love you,” my heart doesn’t buy it. The sweet nothings that lead me to a place with life and water suddenly turn and become dark and fruitless. The water’s current fights against my body, making me almost drown until I reach a hand and he lifts me out. He doesn’t seem to mind the waters, stops the rescuing and starts laughing; as if I have lied to myself and drowned in my own tears; as if I wasn’t being drowned and the water was really playing with me.
He turns around and leaves me there by the shore he dragged me to- with his right arm stretched out and his right hand holding my left. Leaving me there, he does not turn around; he just walks away until I cannot see him anymore. No trace of him is left behind; just that demeaning smile that seemed to be off his face the moment he turned away from me. Of course, that is my notion, for I do not know the expression on his face then.
I sat there soaking wet and yet serene; not knowing that would last for only a few minutes. Convoluted by the darkness or the light (I don’t quite remember), I took my short hair that only came to my ears into my hand and tried to squeeze the water out of it; too short to be grabbed, my hair remained drenched in juice from the ocean. One leg was bent with my foot on the floor while the other leg was stretched out, each beside the other, waiting for one to go first. So I grabbed the bent knee and tried to get up, getting stuck.
I tried this again, hoping the second time would be easier, blaming the trauma in that water for the frozenness in my leg- no result. I thought the third time would do it, when I shrieked in pain and sat back down, now both knees bent. I hugged my knees and tried to keep them warm; maybe the cool air and the cold water had frozen my legs, disabling them to move. No.
I tried one last time and fell face-up on the shore, looking at the sun, getting a little (well, a lot) wet on the ocean floor. And that’s when I saw him. It’s like he knew. He knew that my leg was broken and there was nothing he could do about it right there. He also figured that since I was there on the ground where he left me, I wouldn’t really want to move, being tired and all.
Boy was he wrong. I wanted to move. But I guess he knew that I wouldn’t really be able to move anyway since my leg was broken. He brought his first aid kit with him, and a mat. He tried to be gentle and picked me up and put me on the mat. He opened his arms wide and took the mat and walked away from the shore. At this point there were tears in my eyes and I didn’t understand why he used a mat and couldn’t just pick me up in his arms.
Later on I realized that he was trying to prevent more damage to my legs and the rest of my body, since I was apparently too fragile. He didn’t seem to get tired, for he carried me on that mat for about a mile through the island. At the time I didn’t know that this was an island; I thought it was a jungle, filled with wild animals. Well, it was a jungle, but it was part of an island, more specifically the Island of Vanuatu in the heart of the Pacific Ocean; the fact that I wasn’t aware of at the moment. After walking a mile through the trees and bushes, he put the mat with me on it down and started to walk away again.
At this point, my tears welled up in my eyes and my face turned red, out of partly sadness and partly embarrassment. He turned around, stooped down to where I laid and with both hands moved the mat and I up against the tree next to me and had me sit up; then he held my face in his right hand and looked at me straight in the eyes. All I could see were his deep brown eyes, piercing into me and making me shiver. It was unbelievable; I didn’t know what to think. I had never been looked this way before; so incredibly odd and yet, it fit. We fit, but I couldn’t think about that right now. I couldn’t allow my emotions to get ahead of my logic… the logic that we were stranded on a God-forsaken Island and there was no way back- at least not yet. This was the real reason behind these unforgettable moments. I mustn’t forget that this wasn’t right; that it was only an allusion, especially being nearly drowned could’ve clouded my judgment. And still, there he was.
I focused back in on what was about to happen next, but I was a bit distracted by his masculine, facial hair. It was two or three days unshaved and if I had the pleasure to touch it, which I didn’t, it would have been stubby. His hair, not curly and not straight- just with the right amount of waves- caught my eyes and all I wanted to do was run my fingers through it, and grab a bunch and pull it while I kissed him so passionately, but couldn’t. It was too good to be true. Before I was all out, caught in his four-inch short brown hair, he spoke.
The words were like music to my ears, so soothing and so comforting, and very erotic. He wouldn’t stutter or forget his words; he didn’t have a big, thick accent, making everything sound like gibberish. He spoke with ease and with elegance… he stole my heart.
“Are you alright?” I stopped staring and put my head slowly down, looking at my shivering hands that were now hugging my legs and replied in a hush voice “yes.” “Can I get you anything?” His question was a bit ridiculous, considering that we were in the middle of a bunch of trees, but I politely whispered no. He then sat down right next to me, leaning with his back up against the tree, looking up. I could see him from the corner of my left eye. He looked serene, like he was falling asleep, with his hands folded across his chest, or maybe he was in deep thought. I wouldn’t know since I fell asleep at the remembrance of the pain in my leg and the Island I had come to for a vacation from my busy and crowded life back in Los Angeles.
When I woke up, he was sitting a couple of feet across from me, trying to break a coconut for food. I never liked coconut milk, in fact I loathed the stuff, but he looked so good that when he offered the half to me, I took it with gratitude. I looked up at him while he focused on drinking the coconut, and kept looking at him after he was done. He put the fruit down and looked at me sideways, “what?” Suddenly I realized that I had been staring at him, while holding my untouched coconut with both hands. “Nothing,” I shook my head in embarrassment, looking down, and gulping the coconut juice down my throat. That’s when they started… his stares.
He looked at me and looked at me and looked at me. “Was I doing something wrong earlier, drinking the coconut juice?” he said almost smiling. But it wasn’t a sarcastic smile or a belittling one; it was warm and friendly and his voice- uh his voice- it was almost delicious. The sound that came out of his mouth was melodic and mine was too low to be heard and so soft it almost sounded like Bell from Beauty and the Beast when her heart was broken- or at least that’s how I pictured it- “oh, I’m sorry for that, you weren’t doing anything wrong. I was just surprised at the coconut.” Although this was partly true, since I loathed coconuts, in his hands though, it was the most pleasing thing I saw. Maybe it was because of his hands, so big, with tan skin. His hands belonged to a man who worked the farm all his life, and yet he couldn’t have been more than twenty eight. “Why the coconut? What was wrong with the coconut?” he interrupted my thoughts and all I could say was that I didn’t like it much. “You chugged it all down, I just assumed you loved it.” I didn’t know what to say, I was caught. Could he have known? Could he have guessed? What was I supposed to do? What could I say? I couldn’t run too far, hell I couldn’t run at all. I was red with embarrassment and shame. I looked up slowly at him, “I was too hungry to think. I would have eaten a cockroach if I had to.” At that, he burst into laughter and picked up a cockroach with his fingers and brought it to my face. “I jerked back, looking terrified. My eyes were twice their normal size and I shrieked. He threw the cockroach away from me, stretched out his arms and held mine; he came closer and sat directly in front of me; I was panting. It’s not like I freak out all the time, but me and the bugs don’t go well together. But this time was different. It wasn’t just about the bugs, it was him. He was being playful; he talked to me, he took interest in me. Of course this was all in my head. He was probably just trying to be nice and take pity on a girl with a broken leg.
Then he spoke. At this point my eyes were a little wet with tiny tears welled up in them. He looked straight at me and spoke. “I am so sorry; I had no idea. If I knew…” I cut him off right there. I couldn’t let him go on torturing himself for something that wasn’t entirely his fault. “You didn’t know. It’s okay. I just get startled at these kinds of things. The bugs and I don’t mesh well.” I smiled a little, but still he seemed careful about what he did next. He let go of my face, looked down at my leg and looked back up suddenly. I was too shy at this point to look straight at him. I was afraid of myself, afraid that I would ruin every chance with him if I got carried away with my emotions for him. His words interrupted my thoughts and froze my body with fever shivers. “Do you have a boyfriend?” All I could do was to breathe heavy. I was so terrified at that question. I had been waiting for some sort of a sign, a more concrete one at that, to show me that he was really interested in me, not just taking pity, but really wanting me like the way I wanted him. “No. Well, yes, Sam- but that didn’t work out well.” “Oh…” was all he said and a whole minute later, he wanted to know why. Why didn’t it work out with my old boyfriend? I didn’t really remember, but I think it was something along the lines of commitment. He had said that he loved me and that’s when I needed the vacation. “He was afraid of commitment.” I was looking straight at him when I said that; immediately after, I looked down on my legs and held them tight. “You must be in a lot of pain.” “Well, now I am, since you’re talking about it.” This was my first attempt at making him laugh and it was not in the least intentional. It was as if my personality was creeping out and I wasn’t sure if he would like it. But there it was, out in the open- I had made fun of him.
He laughed softly and sweetly and came even closer, took my dropped chin in his right hand and whispered into my ears. “I’m not afraid of commitment.” My heart stopped… well, that’s how it felt, like my heart stopping. I was panting, my body moved with each pant. I wanted to throw myself in his arms and just melt, but I had to control myself. There it was- my sign. But the trouble was that with each sign, I wanted another one. Another sign. He slowly brought his face back to looking at me, except that he wasn’t. His head was down and my head was frozen solid. I couldn’t move. I didn’t want him to move either. As I was thinking, he got up faster than I could blink. My gaze followed his each move.
Walking away again, my heart started to pound louder and louder. Suddenly he was nowhere to be seen. Tears filled up my eyes at my confused state, and at his departure. Ten minutes later I heard footsteps. I looked up to see who it was. I was excited that he hadn’t left for long; that he had come back for me, that he really was interested in me and that I really would get my real sign. But the man that approached me didn’t look familiar. He looked vicious and had a smirk on his face. I was immediately scared, but tried to keep calm. “Who are you?” I said in almost a whisper. “Can I help you with anything? I’m sorry I can’t stand up, my leg is broken.” I don’t know how these words ran out of my mouth, but there they were. My leg is broken? Really? That’s not what you tell a vicious-looking stranger with a smirk on his face. You yell, scream at the top of your lungs, hoping the man that has left me breathless will show up and rescue me. You do everything but share. Suddenly I screamed. I screamed so loud that my ears nearly went deaf. You’d think I saw a whole army of cockroaches the way I screamed.
The man ran to me and closed my mouth with his right hand and with his left tired to undress me. He took off my sweater,- which I wore over a long-sleeve pink shirt- took his hand away from my mouth and stood right up. I was so shocked and horrified that I couldn’t move or speak; I was frozen solid. He looked at me with his piercing brown eyes, almost popping out of his head, and his serious expression that seemed confused and shocked, and started running off. I broke down.
I cried softly and for a very long time. I was tired with my back against the tree and my arms fallen next to me like a dead person, giving up on the whole thing. My head was tilted to the side and I cried and cried some more. The gloomy weather didn’t help one bit. I wanted him there, holding me and whispering into my ears. Where had he gone? Things were just beginning and they had already ended. I looked up again in the hope of seeing him, his piercing brown eyes and his big, masculine hands. Where had he come from? What was he doing here? Was he on a vacation too? Would he just leave me there and go back to wherever he came from?… All of a sudden, I stopped crying and froze in place. He was right in front of me and I remembered everything.
He was the one. He left for ten minutes and returned a different man. Could it be? Was he the man I couldn’t stop daydreaming about the whole time after he lifted me out of the currents? Was he the guy who whispered into my ears that he wasn’t afraid of commitment? Was he the one who sat close to me and held my head up and looked straight into my eyes with warmth and dare I say “love?”… The very one.
I came back to consciousness and tried to move away from that tree and away from him. I’m pretty sure he could hear me panting. He just stood there as I tried to pull away. He spoke to me. “I don’t know what to say. I have no idea what came over me.” I didn’t look satisfied at that, so he continued to speak. “I guess it’s happened before; my last girlfriend didn’t like this about me. She asked me to see a Doctor. I didn’t. That’s why she left me. I never did anything to her, I just scared her every once in a while; not on purpose though. Something just came over me earlier and I had to leave. I knew that I was on the verge of something so I decided to run far away, but I could smell you and all I wanted to do was smell you. I don’t know why, but your smell draws me to you and makes me wild. I am not safe. That’s why I need for you to get better sooner so that you can go back to where you came from.” There was a long silence and I couldn’t move any more.
Confusion was welled up in my face along with a few tears. I couldn’t even think, but somehow I felt safe. I wasn’t scared any more. He approached me as I sat in between the tree and the wild. He sat down halfway, a few feet away from me, scared that I might scream. He looked up at me carefully and searching; searching in my eyes to see what he would find. He found warmth, because that’s what drew him to me again. He came closer and this time held the back of my head and pressed his forehead to mine. He closed his eyes and tried to speak. “I don’t know where to begin, but I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m not the man you thought I was. I’m sorry that I attacked you and ripped up your sweater.” I closed my eyes and he took out his jacket and covered me with it. That was when I realized that I was cold with a shiver. I couldn’t stop shivering; the hair on my body stood straight up and I just wanted to be warm again.
Ryan told me later that he lived in that Island. He left San Francisco for the greatest adventure of his life, or in actuality, he left it because there was no cure for his condition. It wasn’t even called bipolar. He left to be alone and live a new life by himself, seeing a few people once in a while during vacation seasons. He wasn’t expecting to see me though, or fall in love with me. Two months after my broken leg, which was eventually healed because it wasn’t broken at all- I had pinched a nerve and it hurt like hell, but nothing broken- we walked by the beach and he told me “Lina, I love you.” I believed him…
But I had to leave. I had no cure for his condition either and I couldn’t see myself be attacked like that ever again. As a psychology major, I knew too much about these types of conditions, especially the ones with no names. That night when we slept in each other’s arms, I waited until he closed his eyes and left.
It was the hardest decision I had ever made, leaving love behind. Who said love was supposed to be perfect? Who said it had to be completely whole? It wasn’t healthy, but what is? A million thoughts ran through my head as I finally reached a destination. I guess it wasn’t Sam that was afraid of commitment; it was me.
by Mandana Divanbeigi
