The Do-Over(3)

Handing me my next cold drink, I could feel my head waffle and buzz just sitting up to take the glass from him. Between exhaustion, alcohol and the energy I was feeling off Wes, I was totally intoxicated as we settled back into our chaises and the conversation took off at high speed.

“Seriously, you were at that concert? I was there, too!”

“No way that is your favorite movie. Oh my God, I’ve seen it like forty times.”

“You went to that camp? Do you know my cousins?”

“Stop! I was at the opening Mets game, too.”

“Which weekends did you have a West Hampton share?”

“I was at Limelight the night Pearl Jam played. That was one of the best concerts ever.”

“Oh I totally agree; Low is such an underrated album. I can’t believe it’s your favorite, too!”

“Get outta here. I used to work in that neighborhood, too.”

“You seriously did not just use an obscure Bowie lyric on me.”

“Oh my God, nobody knows that restaurant. I totally love that place. I think it’s the best Tiramisu in the city.”

“Me too, I’m following the SETI project, too. There’s got to be other life in the universe.”

“Stop! That is totally my fantasy you’re describing. Get out of my head!”

As the hours drew on, the conversation continued to gain momentum, the similarity in our lifestyles, the times we were in the exact same places and our paths could have crossed, but never did, kept mounting. It was almost miraculous that it had taken us this long to meet. Our common interests, likes and dislikes, and senses of humor were so in sync. There was never a lull in the conversation. Never a moment where I thought, “Okay, so what am I going to talk to this guy about?”

“You know we have been like one-degree of separation people our whole lives.” Wes was amazed. “How did I not know you? And how is it I’m just meeting you because I filled in for some * on this trip?”

“This is crazy,” I laughed. “We have this parallel universe thing going.”

“That sounds very Dark Shadows.”

“Nabbed. I stole it from Dark Shadows.” We both laughed.

As the sun began to lighten the eastern horizon and the stars silently took their final bows, I was riding high on an energy burst. I quickly tried to search my mind for another time in my life, another conversation that had flowed like the past six hours. I came up blank. Wes and I had just shared a night, under the cover of darkness, where our energies merged. It was as if I had just met my oldest friend for the first time and we immediately had a lifetime to catch up on to bring us up to speed.

Sometimes you just click with people and become fast friends. This was similar, but much more intense, as it was laced with that unspoken male/female tension. I wasn’t sure if he just took it as, great conversation with a nice girl or if the energy he felt matched mine. Could a person go on this magic carpet ride alone with the individual sitting next to them experiencing a non-spellbinding, mundane experience, I wondered? Or was this the norm for him? Maybe this was just how he related to people. And while I had no problem making friends and talking to people, and in most cases (except for when I really liked a guy) was very outgoing, what had just happened, was different.

Or at least it had been for me.

Getting up from his chair, Wes reached out a hand to me, leading me to the ship’s railing. Side-by-side we leaned on the rail, watching the first colors of morning make their show. I could feel the heat from his body next to me and the clean scent of detergent on his tee-shirt. I wanted to bury my nose in it, letting my senses of touch and smell fill with him.

I caught Wes just looking at me. “What?” I asked. “Do I have raccoon mascara tracks or something.”

He shook his head, smiling. “No. I’m just kind of tripping out about meeting you. I mean we have been in the same place at the same time like a gazillion times.”

I laughed. “I know. It’s crazy. And it doesn’t feel like I just met you. You know?”

Bumping me with his shoulder. “Yeah, totally. That’s the thing. This has kinda been like when you hear from an old friend from high school or college and you haven’t talked to them in a few years and you end up talking for like two hours on the phone and it’s like no time has passed.”

“Yup. Exactly. I mean, it doesn’t feel like I just met you.”

Wes was still leaning into me and I rested my head against his shoulder as the low clouds hanging just above the horizon began their metamorphosis from ruby to pink to orange and then yellow before the sun broke the horizon. He didn’t move away and we stayed like that for some time. I don’t want to be like a high school friend, I was thinking.

After watching the sunrise, as we sailed toward some raised dots in the distance, we walked back toward our cabins, reaching his corridor first. The moment felt rife with awkwardness. I wanted to hug him or kiss him goodbye or invite him back with me. Something. Anything. The night had been so intimate, although we’d barely physically touched. But we’d shared so many aspects of our lives, that I actually felt I’d shared more with him in our six or so hours, than I’d shared after a night of hot, crazy sex with someone.

But we didn’t touch. We just said goodnight, although night was long gone, and I made my way back to my cabin, alone.