INfusion 47 ebook - Summer 2012 - NMIT

INfusion 47 Summer Edition ‘12
just before it, staying away from the crowds at the newly built canteen. Our little
grassy area was quiet; sun-dappled and warm. We took our shoes off, rolled
up our jeans and walked down to the beach. The ocean glittered before us. A
cool breeze ruffled his hair. This was no mean feat, considering the amount
of product he used to control it. We wandered over to a wooden bench to sit
down. Instead of sitting, he lay himself on the bench and put his head on my
lap, ready for a nap.
‘Wot?’ he said.
I just smiled. I sat in the sun and took off my glasses. In the shade cast
by my upper body, he started to breathe deeply. It was one of those perfect
moments when everything is quiet and still. You frame moments like these for
the years to come.
He rolled over, then back onto his side, but I could tell it was getting too
hot for him. I suggested we go and put down a blanket under the trees, so we
walked back to the car. I took the two brightly coloured rubber-backed blankets
from the boot and spread them out on the grass beside the car. He got his
jacket to put under his head, and I got my backpack to put under mine.
He started playing the soundtrack to Downton Abbey on the speakers
of his iPhone. The sound of the piano rolled in time with the waves from
the beach. He snuggled in along the length of my body and his breathing
deepened.
I looked up at the patches of blue sky and the white meandering clouds.
A bird flew across the treetops. Another one started a gentle mocking echo of
the piano. I thought to myself: I could say it now.
I had made such a fuss about Valentine’s Day the previous week. Dinner
out, and a large bottle of fancy cologne for him from his ‘To Buy for Myself
Sometime’ list. And a nice card, which had taken ages to find, that said how
much I valued what we had and how much he meant to me. It stopped short,
though, of those three simple words. I just wasn’t ready to say it yet. I wasn’t
sure when I would be. I wanted it to mean something.
His card had been signed ‘Love, Ben’. Damn it: he’d said — or at least
written — it first!
But I thought that this might be what it is. Sharing a journey with
someone. Flirting on the drive. Singing along to Katy Perry on the car stereo.
Both of us laughing at me for almost getting us lost. Again. Eating ice cream.
Walking in the sand. Lying on the bench next to the surf. Lying on a blanket
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next to the beach, entwined, not caring who was looking at us. This could be
what it is. This could be what it means. Sharing your life with someone, relaxing
with them.
‘I think I love you,’ I said quietly, then held my breath.
He took my hand in his and kissed the back of it, lingering for a
moment.
‘One, four, three,’ he said.
Pause.
‘Um, what?’
‘Take what you just said and count the letters,’ he patiently explained.
I: one. Love: four. You: three.
One, four, three.
Very clever, I thought, and smiled.
He snuggled in closer. I couldn’t see his eyes because of his sunglasses,
but I could just make out the relaxed smile on his face. I closed my eyes and
drifted. The music from his phone swelled in time with the ocean. And with
my heart.
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