too?" he asked.
As he explained to her what to do on his vastly more complicated camera, I smiled to myself, pleased to know that I'd be a part of his future reminiscences as well.
We took the picture, and Nate checked the viewscreen. "Perfect," he murmured. "Thanks."
The woman smiled and gave us a friendly nod, going on her way.
Having absorbed our fill of paradise, Nate and I went back to get our scooters, and rode leisurely back toward base camp, stopping once along the way for a dinner of the cheapest and tastiest seafood I'd ever had the pleasure of stuffing my face with.
Once we dropped off our scooters, we headed toward the beach again, settling down at what I had dangerously begun to think of as our spot. Taking its cue, a sand crab scuttled away at our approach, vanishing into its burrow.
I dug my toes into the sand. We'd missed the sunset, but the ocean at dusk had its own enigmatic charm.
"So, um," said Nate, uncharacteristically diffident. "My flight leaves tomorrow morning."
Even though I knew this would come, at some point or another, something in my chest still coiled tightly, unpleasantly. "Oh," I said.
Nate trailed a finger along the length of my forearm. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, but I didn't want to have it hanging over our heads all day, you know?"
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I get that. I'm leaving in a couple of days too, anyway."
Now that it had come to it, saying goodbye was a lot harder than I'd thought it would be. How had I become so attached to a person in less than a week?
Nate looked at me. "What do you want to do?"
For all my intentions at being anyone else but me, I couldn't leave this to anyone but me. Practically speaking, I still knew next to nothing about Nate -- other than what we did for a living, we'd managed to exchange little personal information; I didn't know where he was from, or where he had grown up, or what his family was like, or his favorite color.
What all this boiled down to was simply a summer fling. Well, a slightly off-season fling since it's cheaper to fly during non-peak times, but still -- it was just a fling. A spectacular fling, as flings go, but never meant to last.
Of course I liked him now, but we were also on vacation, responsible for no one and nothing, free to do as we pleased. Vacation is nothing like the real world; that's why we take them, to indulge in the fantasy of not living out our life choices for a little while.
We were both headed back to our real worlds soon; I didn't know what his was like, but mine included returning unopened wedding gifts and letting voicemail defend me from pitying phone calls.
It was all very sensible in my head, though saying it out loud made no sense to my heart.
Neither of us had room in our lives for this kind of attachment, and we agreed to leave whatever we shared here, just let it be what it was.
"But we still have the rest of today," I said, some delusional, hopeful part of me insistent on dragging out the inevitable.
Similarly afflicted, Nate nodded and said, "We do."
What little distance there was between us disappeared in a split second, the both of us turning at the same time, our bodies meeting in the middle, our mouths melting into each other's, our heartbeats pounding to the same desperate rhythm.
If all we had left was the vestiges of this night, then we might as well make it count.
Above us, the deepening sky sparked its stars to life, and we watched them shine for a moment before rising to our feet, fine dustings of sand falling away from us.
Silently we walked through the resort grounds, and when we came once again to the forked pathway that diverged toward our rooms at opposite ends of the hotel, we turned in the same direction this time.
***
It seems maudlin to say that my holiday experience pretty much ended the moment I waved goodbye to Nate as he boarded his shuttle to the airport some short hours later, but let's call it like it is.
I spent my last two days there not even trying to pretend I
As he explained to her what to do on his vastly more complicated camera, I smiled to myself, pleased to know that I'd be a part of his future reminiscences as well.
We took the picture, and Nate checked the viewscreen. "Perfect," he murmured. "Thanks."
The woman smiled and gave us a friendly nod, going on her way.
Having absorbed our fill of paradise, Nate and I went back to get our scooters, and rode leisurely back toward base camp, stopping once along the way for a dinner of the cheapest and tastiest seafood I'd ever had the pleasure of stuffing my face with.
Once we dropped off our scooters, we headed toward the beach again, settling down at what I had dangerously begun to think of as our spot. Taking its cue, a sand crab scuttled away at our approach, vanishing into its burrow.
I dug my toes into the sand. We'd missed the sunset, but the ocean at dusk had its own enigmatic charm.
"So, um," said Nate, uncharacteristically diffident. "My flight leaves tomorrow morning."
Even though I knew this would come, at some point or another, something in my chest still coiled tightly, unpleasantly. "Oh," I said.
Nate trailed a finger along the length of my forearm. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner, but I didn't want to have it hanging over our heads all day, you know?"
"Yeah," I said. "Yeah, I get that. I'm leaving in a couple of days too, anyway."
Now that it had come to it, saying goodbye was a lot harder than I'd thought it would be. How had I become so attached to a person in less than a week?
Nate looked at me. "What do you want to do?"
For all my intentions at being anyone else but me, I couldn't leave this to anyone but me. Practically speaking, I still knew next to nothing about Nate -- other than what we did for a living, we'd managed to exchange little personal information; I didn't know where he was from, or where he had grown up, or what his family was like, or his favorite color.
What all this boiled down to was simply a summer fling. Well, a slightly off-season fling since it's cheaper to fly during non-peak times, but still -- it was just a fling. A spectacular fling, as flings go, but never meant to last.
Of course I liked him now, but we were also on vacation, responsible for no one and nothing, free to do as we pleased. Vacation is nothing like the real world; that's why we take them, to indulge in the fantasy of not living out our life choices for a little while.
We were both headed back to our real worlds soon; I didn't know what his was like, but mine included returning unopened wedding gifts and letting voicemail defend me from pitying phone calls.
It was all very sensible in my head, though saying it out loud made no sense to my heart.
Neither of us had room in our lives for this kind of attachment, and we agreed to leave whatever we shared here, just let it be what it was.
"But we still have the rest of today," I said, some delusional, hopeful part of me insistent on dragging out the inevitable.
Similarly afflicted, Nate nodded and said, "We do."
What little distance there was between us disappeared in a split second, the both of us turning at the same time, our bodies meeting in the middle, our mouths melting into each other's, our heartbeats pounding to the same desperate rhythm.
If all we had left was the vestiges of this night, then we might as well make it count.
Above us, the deepening sky sparked its stars to life, and we watched them shine for a moment before rising to our feet, fine dustings of sand falling away from us.
Silently we walked through the resort grounds, and when we came once again to the forked pathway that diverged toward our rooms at opposite ends of the hotel, we turned in the same direction this time.
***
It seems maudlin to say that my holiday experience pretty much ended the moment I waved goodbye to Nate as he boarded his shuttle to the airport some short hours later, but let's call it like it is.
I spent my last two days there not even trying to pretend I
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