Fighting the Inevitable
I stood on the boardwalk, arms resting on the railing, looking out at the ocean as waves broke gently on the sand of the beach. People lounged on blankets, talking, and listening to music, while children played at the water's edge. Older kids with skimboards dashed across the inches-deep water and those with boogie-boards rode the larger of the small waves like amateur surfers. There was a lot of activity and happiness on the beach, par for the course on a warm August afternoon.
This was my favorite place for reflection, hoping that the combination of observing the happiness of others and the memories of how I used to feel when I was enjoying days like these with friends now long gone, would spark something inside me to offset the emptiness that was a constant companion. My eyes saw things from a vantage point that existed forty years ago as if they balanced on the edge of a mirror. In front of me, life occurred and was viewed by a 25-year-old man, and behind me, life confirmed that a 65-year-old man was staring sullenly at the passage of time. As hard as I tried to will the past back into focus, I ultimately realized the folly of my endeavors and went home slightly more depressed than when I left. The fact that I continued to come to the beach and walk the boardwalk, breathing the fresh salt air, and feeling the sun on my skin, proved to me that all was not lost.
"Penny for your thoughts," came a pleasant voice from close by. I turned and saw a handsome young-ish man, probably 35 or so, wearing shorts, a tee shirt, a baseball cap, and sunglasses, smiling at me.
"Excuse me," I replied, "are you talking to me?"
"'Taxi Driver'" came the response with a laugh. "Don't tell me you're Robert De Niro?"
Laughing, I said, "Sorry, no, but I will give you my autograph anyway if you like," continuing the joke.
"I apologize for invading your space, but I have stood here for about 5 minutes and you haven't moved so I wanted to make sure everything was okay. I know that it's none of my business so feel free to tell me to fuck off," he said.
"I tend to get wrapped up in my thoughts when I'm here, and the sound of the waves coupled with the scent of the sea, is hypnotic," I replied.
"I know how you feel," he said, "the relaxation that I feel after time at the beach is second to none. My name is James by the way."
"Nice to meet you, James," I replied, "I'm Harvey."
So started a pleasant conversation on a sunny summer afternoon. We chatted for about a half-hour before deciding to walk the boardwalk together for some exercise and then enjoy a cold beer in an open bar facing the sea. He was a nice fellow, and I honestly enjoyed our time together. He drove away the dark clouds and the laughter was medicinal. I felt rejuvenated.
"James, it was great meeting you and I appreciate you taking the time to make a nice afternoon even better," I said as I pushed my chair back and dug in my pocket for money for the beer.
"I enjoyed it as well and I'm amazed at how quickly the time passed. I'll take a bit of a risk here and admit that I was looking for the right time to ask if you might like to have dinner with me sometime but obviously, I waited too long," he replied seeing that I was getting ready to leave. I was caught off guard by his comment and found myself stunned and at a loss for words that he interpreted as a negative response. "Sorry for being so forward but I didn't want you to leave without me asking the question. I have many regrets because I have been too shy to follow my feelings and instincts, and I didn't want to add to the list today."
Seeing the look on his face brought me back to the present. "No, I should apologize for giving you the impression that I would refuse your invitation. As someone probably twice your age, I am surprised that you would want my company over dinner rather than someone your age and I didn't know how to react," I said. "Why don't we try this again and let me subtract from my list of regrets?"
"Okay," he replied quietly.
"It was nice meeting you and I enjoyed spending an impromptu afternoon with you, but it ended too quickly," I said, "Would you be interested in having dinner together sometime this week?"
"Yes, I would like that very much," he replied without hesitation.
"Your reactions are so much faster than mine," I said.
James had already taken out a card from his wallet and handed it to me. "I look forward to your call," he said with a smile, "Thank you."
As I walked to my car I felt a lightness that I had not felt in quite a while. I was smart enough to understand that this feeling would not be long-lasting but savvy enough to enjoy the moment. I went to the beach to improve my mood and reflect on life and today was a day where I accomplished both of my goals and I was pleased by the way things turned out.
The days ticked by, and I was reluctant to call James for some unknown reason but maybe the reason was not unknown to my subconscious. I was apprehensive about making the call and feared rejection by someone who thought better of the situation in the light of a new day. It has been many years since I even considered a date and teenage fears creep into older brains just as quickly as they do to younger ones. Eventually, with the aid of a glass of vodka and ice, I was able to summon the courage to make the call on Wednesday evening.
After the perfunctory greetings and chit-chat, James addressed the elephant in the room. "I was beginning to think that you forgot about me or lost my card. Is there a problem?"
"No, not at all, I think I was just a bit nervous and hesitated. If I can be candid, I felt that you might have reconsidered your acceptance of a dinner invitation, and I didn't want to be rejected. As ridiculous as it may sound, I feel like a high school kid preparing to ask someone for a date while simultaneously dreading the possible answer," I said.
