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“Great,” I mumbled. “So if I go down, it’ll hit me in the head, making me drown even faster.”
He finished fastening the leash on me and then got up, brushing off his hands from the sand that he had on them. “Not exactly.” He gave me a reassuring smile. “Come on, nothing’s going to happen and I’ll be right here the whole time.”
I darted him a dirty look. “That’s what parents say to their children five seconds before they take their hands off the bicycle and they fall off, scrape a knee, and then don’t ever want to get back on one again.”
He laughed and I could see the cleft on his chin became more apparent as his smile went from ear to ear. He was clearly finding this amusing. “Happen to you, did it?”
I scowled. I wasn’t confirming or denying anything.
Still laughing, he let it go. “You’re not wrong, you know,” he finally agreed with me.
“Thank you,” I said, “so even you agree this is a bad idea.”
He shook his head and crossed his arms. “I didn’t say that.”
I searched his eyes and waited for him to explain. He didn’t, but he had to. There was no way I could do this wondering. “What are you trying to say then?”
He uncrossed his arms and brought his hands to my shoulders. I practically shuttered at his gentle touch, gentle yet strong. His grip felt so good. I always felt more secure in his arms, with his hands on me, holding me tight. “Close your eyes.”
“What?” Was he mad?
He looked into my eyes, my wide open eyes, and demanded again, “Close your eyes.”
I exhaled and tried to remember how it felt to trust him three years ago, to let myself just feel. Knowing it might be scary, but definitely worth it, I finally closed my eyes.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice low and his breath warm on my skin.
I became keenly aware of so many things, not just his breath, but his body. He was so close to me, I could feel it. My body was practically on alert at being in such close proximity to him.
I felt his hands travel down my arms until they reached my hands and took hold of them in his own. He was holding my hands, his thumbs brushing over the back of them. I didn’t know if he had a clue what the whole sweet thing was doing to me. I felt silly, like some teenage girl. I was tempted to rake my bottom lip through my teeth and open my eyes to see for myself if he noticed the effect he was having on me.
Then he spoke, breaking the deafening silence that I filled with so many thoughts of desire. “Tune everything else out and listen to the sound of the water.”
The sound of the water? What did that even mean? “I’ve heard waves crashing before. It’s nothing new to me,” I countered, trying to figure out what his endgame was.
He blew outwardly, clearly growing frustrated. “This isn’t going to work if you’re going to challenge me at every turn.”
I sighed and decided to do as he asked. Things always proved to turn out better that way anyhow. “Fine, I’ll listen,” I conceded.
I tried my best to block out everything else, including my mind that was always racing, currently over thoughts of Lance. But it wasn’t just now. My mind was always going, whether focusing on a new task I had to do or a deadline for work, the family, my sister. There was always something, but I gave it a good shot of blocking it all out to concentrate on the sound of the water.
And it worked—almost! The feelings that were rushing back for Lance were hard to block out. Those, and the nagging doubts I had about deciding to surf, something seemingly far too adventurous to me.
Listen to the sound of the water, I reminded myself of the objective.
Take a deep breath in.
And release it.
That was what all those videos on mindfulness I’d seen said to do.
Concentrating, I tuned everything out, even my own thoughts, and found the sound of the water.
I heard the waves moving around and the water crashing off the rocks. It was relaxing and I felt my self at peace. I felt all the stress and anxiety leave my body. My shoulders fell and I exhaled deeply. My arms relaxed, turning almost limp. I was calm—a feeling I hadn’t felt in, well, let’s just say a long time.
I was always going, always had somewhere to be, something to do. I never really took a deep breath and enjoyed the moment. I always envied people who could live in the moment. They didn’t let the worries of the day drag them down, they just enjoyed every bit of beauty life had to offer. I wished I was more like that.
And I was, for a very short period of time in my life—when I was last with Lance.
