The Bike

“Would you jump in my grave that fast” Quite a terse remark to fling at a perfect stranger, yet comments like this flowed from my lips constantly. Vile hideous comments. Vicious statements like that were dripping continually ever since my heart was shattered. No excuse. But I had such palpable pain as if either vital organs were oozing out or poison was dripping into my body. Who is this person I had become?

I am certain that many others have gone through such deep horrific scathing hurt. But I did not really care about anyone else but me during this awful time. How was I to move on without the love and security that I thought would last forever. Let’s just sum it up quickly and succinctly and get to the real story. O.K.  He left.

I became one of those obnoxious women with an enormous chip on her shoulder. After three months of self-loathing and hatred for everything and everybody I accepted an invitation to go out with one of my girlfriends to have a drink. Truth be told, all I planned on doing was tying one on and passing out. Never in a million years did I ever dream I would meet my future husband.

 As I returned to my seat, the seat I vacated to go to the ladies room. I notice a guy sitting in my spot next to my friend. I approach him like a solider storming off to war. I asked him if he would “Jump into my grave as fast as he took my seat?” After what seemed like an eternity �" he responded by standing up and replying “Uh maybe” Brilliant, scintillating conversationalist. He walked away and sat down at the table behind us. My friend stared at me with horror. “What is wrong with you?” she asked. My response was “Everything”.  It was certainly time to go home.  My friend begged me to stay a little longer. “I know these guys sitting behind us, their good guys, let’s just hang out with them for a while. “  No.  She could not convince me otherwise. But I did agree to go to the beach with her the next day. Maybe I would drown or be eaten by a great white shark or taken to the bottom of the sea by a tsunami.

The weather could not have been more perfect that day at the beach. Sunny, azure blue cloudless sky eight-two degrees no wind what so ever a simply spectacular day. When we arrived at the beach another friend was there with a sail boat. Wow! Things seemed to be looking up for the first time in months. I was actually feeling something other than anger, rage or sorrow.

Everything was perfect, or so I thought. Guess who came walking along the beach? You got it the guy who was “jumping into my grave” the night before at the bar.  He was joining us on the sail boat today. Great, another day ruined.

Unfortunately, I was a prisoner in paradise with no ride home until my friend decided to leave. Nirvana. She told me to “make the best of it”. Such consoling advice as usual, perhaps I would burst into flames with third degree sunburn that is if I was lucky.

Well, believe it or not the day really did start to get better. I had never been on a sail boat before and was starting to enjoy myself I was almost starting to feel alive again. Could I be turning the corner and starting to heal?

Sea, sun and fun. We had it all that day. But still I was apprehensive. Could life really be felt again? I was not convinced. I went home with the knowledge that maybe I could feel something other than horror again.

A few days passed. They were uneventful, almost peaceful. I was falling into a routine of work, sleep and an occasional laugh. Maybe…

It was the following Saturday I was working as a lifeguard at a local pond in our town. It was usually a lonesome, quite assignment. Therefore I spent a huge amount of time thinking unhealthy thoughts.

As I sat at my life guard post I notice a bicyclist heading toward the pond. Nobody ever biked down this long dirt road during the high heat of a hot summer day.  It appear to be some a crazy looking guy wearing jeans, sneakers and a pocket t-shirt. It was far too hot to be dressed like this. As he pulled up I noticed a map sticking up from his back pocket of his jeans. Then I noticed that it was the same guy from the bar and who was also at the beach a few days ago. Yikes!

Back then we did not have a label for this type of behavior but now we would call this behavior “Stalking”. I could not believe my eyes. What was this guy doing out here in the woods.  How in the world did he know I was here?  All of this was taking place before the invention of cell phones so basically I was on my own to deal with crazy.

As he pulled up to me on his bike I noticed how warm and sweaty he was. “Hi” he said. I was just out taking a ride on my bike and I saw you. Are you kidding me I thought? “Come here often” I asked sarcastically. “No not really but it seems like a nice spot” he replied. Quick banter back and forth for a short while and then I just blurted out “For Christ sake what are you really doing here �" I don’t have time to waste on foolishness”. “Okay then, if you must ruin the surprise I rode here (25 miles) using this map to ask you out on a date.” My reply �" “I’m busy”. I could not have been any nastier. He hung around a little while longer and chatted about the ride and weather and what a nice area this was on and on… this guy was relentless. I started to feel bad about my nasty way. Maybe, just maybe this guy was nice.

I asked him how he knew I was going to be at the beach and also how did he know I would be here at the pond. Simple �" my friend had told him about me. She had been giving him the heads up all along. Slick. Seems she had known him since high school and when she had bumped into him at the bar, while I was in the ladies’ room, he asked her for my telephone number just as I was returning to my seat at the bar.

Well, all the cards were on the table. I asked if the offer was still available. Did he still want to go out on a date? He replied “Anywhere you want to go”. I shot off the name of some ridiculous city in another state.” Great idea” “I’ll pick you up Saturday night around seven”. I gave him my address and off he rode in the blistering sun of a very hot summer day.

It was a little unnerving watching him leave. What had I gotten myself into? A week past and I thought maybe this guy would not show up �" but he did.

He arrived nicely dressed and driving a car �" not his bicycle. We went to that ridiculous city had so many laughs it was amazing. I had not ever had this much fun with anyone before.

Thirty-five years later �" I still have more fun with him than anyone else. He makes me laugh every single day of my life. I cannot imagine my life any differently or with anyone else. I always think of him as the guy on a bike just taking a twenty five mile ride and stumbling upon me at the pond.

We still have that bike.