A Life More Complete(3)
“Your dog is adorable.”
He glanced up at me, placing his hand on his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun. He paused for a brief moment, then a shy smile crossed his face and he responded lightly with, “You’re adorable.”
The smile fell instantly from my face. I wasn’t prepared or ready to welcome any advances that would allow me to feel. I couldn’t bear the thought of allowing anyone into my life that might possibly end with me getting hurt, or even worse, me hurting them. Quickly and silently I tapped the pads of each one of my fingertips on my right hand. Counting each one in rapid succession till I reached ten. This was my OCD at its best. A situation I wasn’t in control of, calling for stimulation to calm my senses and relax my overwhelming urge to bolt.
He stood in front of me, his smile faded based on my response. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s not every day that a beautiful girl returns my wayward dog to me.” He extended a tanned, yet well-worn hand to me. “Ben,” he said with a weak grin. I didn’t take his hand, but I responded with, “Krissy. Krissy Mullins.” The thought of touch overwhelmed me and again I tapped my fingers.
“I’m glad I was able to help. I’d hate to see what would’ve happened if she hadn’t been found.” I smiled timidly.
“It would have been bad. She’s my life.” He glanced down at the dog, who was now resting at his feet, leisurely licking her paw. “Let me take you out as a thank you for finding her.” His eyebrows rose as he awaited an answer.
“I don’t think so, but thank you. I need to be going. Have a good one.” I turned and walked away. Somehow when he didn’t follow me, I knew my point was made.
Ben would outlast me, which to this day I don’t understand why. Months would pass and I would wave to him while he surfed and I ran. Roxy would trail at my feet, making me feel some semblance of comfort in her proximity. We would chat briefly as I returned Roxy to him, basic conversation: weather, running, surfing, never delving too deep.
Eventually I caved and had coffee with him one Saturday morning. It became a regular occurrence for months. He became a friend and a close one at that, and over the last few years we began to teeter on the edge of that muddy line between friends and something more.
I wasn’t looking to fall in love. Nope, not me. Been there, done that and boy, oh, boy did the ending suck. I’m serious, ambitious, goal driven, at least that’s how I want to be perceived, but I know my view might be a little skewed. I’m the girl who wears white pants and assumes they won’t get dirty. I’m clumsy and silly, but long to be taken seriously. Yep, that’s me. A damn fool. With Ben it falls to pieces. I can only see him and the warmth that spreads through my body. He makes me laugh. He makes me smile. He makes me weak.
I remove my shoes and begin to unroll my yoga mat as Ben strolls up. Drying himself with a beach towel, he commands Roxy to sit, his deep brown hair still damp from his morning surf, his muscular body tanned and flexing as he dries his hair again. He in turn unrolls a mat directly behind me, giving me a coy smile. I know his game and I giggle at the thought. He’s only here so he can be with me and he reminds me of that with a shy grin on his face.
“It’s been ten years today,” I whisper for some unknown reason. I guess if I say it loud enough I might will it to go bad. After the words leave my mouth I have to suppress the urge to tap my fingers and to my surprise, the urgency subsides rather quickly.
“Well, I’d say you’ve done quite well for yourself, Miss Mullins. Not bad for a midwestern girl.” He smiles and it melts me. I want to reach out and grab him. Pull myself against his chest and seek the comfort that only his embrace brings me. I trust him implicitly with every part of my being, but he wants more and I can’t give it to him.
Placing my feet squarely on the mat, I bend forward into down dog and he slaps my ass. “One day,” he says and winks at me.
Again I giggle like a schoolgirl. I part my legs and glance at him, “It took five years to get to this point, hope you got another five in you,” I respond.
I’m good at seduction. We both know that. It’s my heart and my commitment that he wants, not my body. Yet my body is so easy to give away—a few choice movements and he becomes mine. His words “one day” bounce around in my head and I know he wants what I can’t give him. It’s the only point that we argue about and it always comes back to the same thing. He wants a title, ownership, commitment... love. I’ve never fully loved him, always one foot out the door, that way when the pain invades I can break away without feeling or guilt. But I want to change for him and I’m compelling myself to be a better person, starting today.