The sailor

I was lying awake in bed but my alarm had not rung yet. I really wanted to fall asleep again because it had taken me ages to fall asleep and I did not want to crash in the middle of the day. I layed in bed wide awake, until I gave up on falling back to sleep, then I got up and went about my morning routine.

I had not decided on an outfit for the day, but I had been avoiding wearing my blue shirt for two weeks. Just in case I did not have time to wash it for today. Wearing my blue shirt with blue jeans - very basic. But the blue shirt was the exact colour as the sky this time of the year and the jeans fit me well. I tool them out of my wardrobe, I also fished out my newest pair of white socks and took my grey belt that matched my shoes. I put all the clothes on my bed, took out the ironing board and started ironing, I had never ironed my jeans or socks but that day felt like the day to start.

When I felt like the time I was spending on the ironing was starting to become unreasonable, I switched to tiding up my room… just in case. On a day like that one I had never really needed to use my room for anything that required it being tidy, but life can surprise you.

My morning alarm rang, trying to remind me to wake up, but instead reminding me that I actually need to get ready. It’s not like I needed to be reminded, because I was nervously waiting for the time to pass, so I guess that alarm felt more like an encouragement. I brushed my teeth again, put on the clothes the meticulously ironed clothes, fixed my hair and stood in front of the mirror trying decide if I was happy with how I looked.

When I felt ready to leave, I walked down the stairs to see Moris making breakfast in the kitchen.

- What do my eyes see? Getting up early to see your sailor?

That’s not the conversation that I wanted to be engaged in. So I stilled myself and gave the most factual answer I could find.

- You know it’s not early for me, I usually wake up around this time to go to work and they are not MY sailor. If they were MY sailor I wouldn’t be seeing them, once every two months and waiting days for them to respond to my messages.

- But you want them be. – Moris said that a bit less enthusiastically but still inviting a conversation of fantasising.

I searched for the part of myself that was currently feeling annoyed and invited it to the forefront. I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t afford to be putting hopes into the world so carelessly.

- The factuality of this statement would not change the factuality of your first one. – I was trying to cling to my annoyance to the best of my ability.

- Whatever. You know what I mean. – That was Morris resigning because he knows how stubborn I can get. – What time would you be back?

- I don’t know, but I couldn’t imagine I’ll be here before six. – Morris winked at me.

- If that’s the case, I think you should have some of my breakfast so that you eat something else during the day that is not just ice cream.

- I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. – I wasn’t going to eat something after I had already brushed my teeth … twice. – I’ll see you later.

- I'll see you later. I'll be home before you, but until then - go get them champ! – With the last drops of annoyance left in my body I rolled my eyes at Morris again, turned my back to him and headed to the front door grinning.

It was a nice sunny day and because I was up so early I was able to walk to the harbour instead of taking the bus. I was feeling jittery with nerves but I was also trying not to walk to fast, because I did not want to arrive sweaty. So I was slowly walking along the seafront thinking back to the last time I me the sailor and trying not to get lost in imagination.

I reached the harbour quite early but I could see the sailor already sitting at our bench. I usually had some time to sit there by myself and sort out my nerves while watching their ship pull into the harbour. But ship was already docked and the sailor was already at the bench. My stomach sank, I thought flickered tough my mind – if the ship is already docked that means it arrived yesterday, that means that the sailor … But I shut that thought down. I wasn’t allowing myself to get lost in my imaginations.

I was walking with purpose, the sailor’s figure starting to form detailed shape. They were looking straight into the ocean, unmoving. I imagined walking up to them, putting my hand on their hand to bring back their attention to the land, to me. But when I reached them and felt an air of distance. I couldn’t even bring myself to sit next to them unannounced.

- Hey, fancy seeing you here! – they looked at me, their face adjusting from that of a person lost in their own thoughts to one of a person who had to get ready to talk to another person – I’m getting the suspicion that you might have a job that is somewhat connected to the ocean, because every time I see you it’s always at the harbour. That or you are half fish. – I said smiling and sat next to them

They began to laugh but quickly stopped themselves before it turned into something more than a chuckle. Sitting up close their face looked almost sombre and that air of distance was even more palatable.

- How have you been? – I was still optimistic that the weird feeling that I was sensing was a result of something situational and not something I was about to start worry about.

- A bit lost. – They turned their face back to the ocean and seemed to get lost in their thoughts. I debated putting my hand on theirs again, but it did not feel right. So I also stared at the ocean waiting for them to be ready to talk. – That accident two years ago, I still think about it. – I did know that. Every time we saw each other our conversations would inevitably bring up the ship incident and I wouldn’t know what to say. But this time the way the sailor said it, it reminded me of the first time they brought it up and the immense pain that their words carried. Like that time, I did not know what to say. But unlike that time the sailor did not hurry to change the topic of conversation. – Every time I come back to this harbour I am reminded of what happened and it’s been exhausting – they paused. – Being around you here is a nice escape, but when you are not around the thought of you is a reminder of what happened.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at them. I was looking at the ground, fidgeting with my hands, not knowing what to do. Putting everything together. The ship was here already, the ship they basically spend their life on and the ship that brings them to this harbour where the incident happened, they have been in pain for a while and I am somewhere on in the background of that picture causing … I looked at them trying not to feel defeated trying to look encouraging.

- After this trip, I will be starting university to be a mechanical engineer. – the sailor was looking at me with a look I couldn’t understand.

The reality of the situation was quickly engulfing me and I was trying to battle the nervous fidgetiness with the fake encouraging confidence I was trying to put on.

- I guess that means no more ships. – I said smiling at them.

- Not necessarily but definitely not for a while. I think later down the like I could specialise and be a marine engenderer.

- So when you do that would you be working closely with programmers? - This felt like the begining of our usual back and froths.

- I’d assume so, that’s where technology is headed.

- So maybe when you become an engineer we could work on a ship together.

- I would like that. – With that sentence the back and promising beginning of a potential back and forth was squashed and their gaze drifting back to the ocean.

I was looking at them, trying to create and image that I could remember forever. How they looked, their hair waving in the wind. Their lips tightly pressed against each other. Their eyes reflecting the sky, or was the sky reflecting their eyes, I wasn't sure because both were the exact shade of blue. They looked like a portrait come to life, which was trying to decide whether to get back to being a painting and become part of the scene or create its own path in life. But the decision had already been made.

- What now? – I asked, thinking that maybe we could follow an unwritten tradition and get ice cream.

They looked at me with the same look from before, which I couldn't understand.

- I actually need to go. The ship is leaving in half an hour and I need go back to work. – I couldn’t look at them. I was staring at the ground. – You could stay here though, you don’t have to leave.

When I looked at them they were already standing up.

- I’ll see you on that ship then. – I said smiling.

- I’ll see you on that ship. – They echoed my word and walked away.

I did stay on that bench watching them disappear into the boat scenery, turning it into a characterless landscape. My eyes started burning. I was forcing myself to remember every detail of this interaction and all the other times we had sat on this bench. Things I’ve said, things I was trying to recotextualise, things I wish we had done.

I sat there until their ship left the harbour and then suddenly I needed to be somewhere else. I stood up and instinctively headed towards the ice cream shop. Maybe that day was going to be the start of me getting ice cream by myself and not thinking about the sailor. But it was actually my way of trying to get meaning from this situation and seeing myself as a tragic hero – alone doing something that was meant to be done in a pair.

Afterwards I headed home. My thoughts became a blur – memories of the sailor talking about the incident, trying to piece together how they were feeling, trying to piece together whether I could fit in their life in any way. I spent the rest of the day in this bargaining state, sometimes crying, pacing in my room, questioning whether I reach out to them. But they had chosen a different life.

When I heard Morris enter the house, I stayed in my room. I did not want to speak to him or anyone who knew about the sailor. What was I going to say that wasn’t going to make things more real? I stayed in bed, lying awake trying to imagine what were the thoughts running through the sailor's head, trying to come up with a way to keep the sailor alive in my head in a way that wouldn't hurt.