Summers and Serendipitous Encounters

 Reeling from a brewing hangover, he watched her walk avay. She had hinted that they spend the night but he chose to stay--for whatever reason, just so he could give her the "sunrise" he promised. When she was gone, not only did he feel the emptiness but more so, the stupidity of what he had done.

"Who the fuck turns down an invitation to pillow?"

That single idiotic act would haunt him for years. It was the itch he never scratched. It was that unkind word one could never take back. It was the perpetual wondering and the unending, "What ifs?" that would never find an answer.

Someone once told him, "Lessons can be expensive."

Almost 3 decades since, he was still emotionally bankrupt. Relationships didn't seem to work out the way he dreamed they would. Women came and went and with each failed encounter, a part of him died and it was better to forfeit the memories than to cling to the pain. 

Serendipity was not the first and certainly not the last. There was, Summer. 

Half his age though ripe at 25, Summer was an unexpected departure from his usual cup of tea. He was dating the older sister at the time, who turned out to be everything a bitch could ever be! She was the diametric opposite of what the sister was. As such, Summer was fair game and he had no qualms about breaking the rules or compromising morality.

A sunrise or sunset would never present itself the same way twice. A second invitation would never come. The opportunity, no better than sand formations constantly modified if not, earsed by the tide. No amount of booze or THC would make him forget the pain and what a clusterfuck that morning had been. No matter how hard he wished, Serendipity would never pass his way again.

Having learned not to do another Serendipity faux pas, he had made his intentions clear to Summer. Her simple reply was like a 9-inch nail driven into his chest, "Make new memories," she said. The unsaid part was, "...with someone else." But there were times when he would catch her looking at him with pondering eyes as if wondering what it would actually feel like to be with him.

There was hardly any doubt that Summer cared for him maybe more deeply than she cared to admit. she was comfortable being around him but deep down, he was crumbling inside. Hardly a moment passed when he wished he could walk up to her and lock his arms around her waist and make love to her on those cold nights he spent alone on the couch while she slept in his room.

She had asked to stay at his place during the last few months of the school year as she wanted to finish her dissertation in peace, away from the chaos generated by her family. It was as close to Heaven as he could get. There would be someone to come home to and to have breakfast or dinner with, if only for the time being.

He did his best to stay out of her way but he made sure she had every creature comfort he could provide including dinner dates and occasional mall sojourns. And though it broke him, he abandoned any attempts to make a pass at her.

But Summer came and went with hardly any incident.

His love was born out of respect. The most he allowed himself to reveal was a hint and no more. Again, the thought of not making a move kept him up at night for years and every so often he still wondered about a life spent with her. She was never difficult to please and he knew the right buttons to push. But maybe, that was never meant to be. 

Summers and serendipitous encounters have come and gone. The circumstances were different each time but the story always had the same ending. 

Just like the summer of '98, getting up from the artificial beach while nursing a headache, he stubs out the last of the cigarette and grabs another, lighting it with the embers of the previous smoke, love and romance are all but discarded after the last few puffs gave a final buzz. With heavy legs he walks back to his cabin and he resigned himself to the fact that it really didn't' matter who it was that kept him warm. Sunrise after all, was never his to give