Walk Amongst the Lovers

         I just got home from a trip to the city of never ending family entertainment. Ah, family. That seemed like a foreign concept. And while I was there, I was surrounded by teenagers in love. Yes, ordinary teenagers, teenagers just like me, displayed love for one another amidst the rushing of the roller coasters and the splashes of the water rides as the cars made their plunges down the steep inclines. In spite of the rush, I return empty. I don't know what it is about me, but I can't shake this weight, as the word abandonment enters my mind. I wish that word didn't summarize my life, but it does.

         The word love then looms in my mind. What does it mean, I ask myself. Does it mean to have someone by your side all the time in a loyal fashion? Does it mean a constant display of one's affections? Does it mean going to great lengths to win one's heart? Or is it something simpler than that, something we'd never guess? I wondered as I left my house on that Sunday afternoon. The sun was soft, getting ready to set as it skims my skin, and all was quiet in my neighborhood. I began my walk, just to clear my head. This feeling of abandonment crushed me, and I needed something to ease that weight.

         I meandered into Granger Park, a quiet place on the estuary where people normally congregated to fish and launch kayaks. However, today of all days was when couples had to stop by and have their picnics for two. Goody. For a moment, I stood still, not really concentrating on anything, but I still took in the scene around me. There they were, those young couples, eating from each others' hands and softly kissing each other's faces. I felt my stomach tighten at the sight of them, a little bit out of disgust. As I continued to watch them, I felt my eyes begin a slow burn. There were people I knew there, and I couldn't let them see my tears. I turned around and began to run.

         As I ran, my vision blurred as tears fought their way to the surface of my face. It hurt my head, and I began to feel dizzy. I tripped over a stick and collapsed on the concrete below me. Finally, my tears flowed freely. I wept noiselessly, head tucked between my knees, and allowed the tension in my head and sinuses to disspate. It hurt to let loose these buried pains, but after crying a little, my head cleared and I got up. Only then did I notice the blood on my knee, a sign that I had tripped. I simply dismissed it and began walking somewhere, somewhere I hadn't decided yet.

         After an hour or so, I made my way to the sights and sounds of the downtown area. For a Sunday afternoon, it was quiet, but every now and then, a giddy young couple would walk by. None of them noticed me, bloody kneed and struggling to keep my tears in check. When they passed me, I continued to walk along, slowing as the blood on my knee clotted, which made the meandering a little more difficult for me. I looked around and saw the typical standards for a bay side town: tackle shops, waterline restaurants, marinas and boat fuel stations. I could feel a faint thirst linger from the back of my throat, but I ignored it. My initial pain had been relieved, but there was still a sadness that I couldn't quite shake from my shoulders. There were couples here, a reminder of what I'd never have again, provided I had it in the first place. I decided to keep walking, but this time, I knew where. It was the last place couples around my age would go. Hell, it was the last place even I would go, but I knew that it was my only relief.

         It took a while before I got there, but when I reached it, I found it had been worth it. The place was bustling, but people were partaking in normal activities, such as depositing their boats into the channel for an evening boat trip and fishing from the pier. I began to walk around, as I could feel my head clear. I was happy.

         As I wandered around, I simply took deep breaths, inhaling the scent of brackish water, shrimp, boat fuel, and grass. Something about that combination made me feel a sense of contentment that I hadn't known in years, not even when I was at home. I wanted to wrap myself up in that water, imbibe in its familiarity. I longed to lay in the grass and look to the sky in search of assurance. That's when it finally dawned on me. What is love? Love is a form of recognition. All this time, it finally occurred to me that I sought recognition, to be known by someone for something positive. That recognition has been absent in my life for years, so many, in fact, that I forgot the euphoria of recognition. It had been missing, but here, it seemed to return to me, and I was content.

         I sat by myself at the edge of a dock, enjoying the view of a beautifully designed house surrounded by various types of trees and daydreaming of what life would be like in that house. Hopefully, it'd be as peaceful as this place. As I remained enveloped by my reverie, I felt footsteps on the dock. Turning around to determine the source, I saw a familiar gentleman walk in my direction. He nodded at me and smiled. I didn't know from where I knew him, but in the end it didn't matter. Someone recognized me and took the time to acknowledge my presence. I knew it wasn't love, but after walking amongst the lovers, I knew it didn't matter. For the first time in my life, I had an idea what love was, and making this discovery put my mind at ease.