Easter Sunday Thoughts While at Sea

I am sleepy but I can’t sleep. A little boy cries some cots away from mine. A man is softly snoring somewhere. And the man occupying the cot above mine is running in my mind, thus the sleeplessness. Sigh.

I needed to go to my best friend’s daughter’s christening, many miles and a boat ride away from my home, and so here I am in the wee hours of this Easter Sunday being ferried into a city I am not so familiar with. The man (who is probably sleeping already) occupying the cot above mine, is a “friend” whom I have asked to accompany me. He knows the city and he has the spare time.

And honestly, I have been hoping to spend time with him and, I assume, he feels the same way. Insert big sheepish grin here.

After the fiasco that was Mr. Banker, another man came knocking on my lonely doors. And this time, it was someone I already have some minor feelings for. For several months. In secret. Nothing tragic, really. Having an unrequited crush isn’t really tragic, right? But then a month ago, out of the blue, this silent mysterious cutie guy from work suddenly sends me a Facebook message being friendly and all and asked for my number. Then a week later confesses that he has feelings for me! That it has been so since weeks after he first saw me! It was suddenly high school all over again. And in a good way. This soon-to-be-divorced/annulled-mother-who-is-supposed-to-be-a-busy-doctor-and-who-is-a-lazy-masters-student is suddenly in cloud nine, giddy and feeling like a million bucks! Oh, feeling young can be intoxicating, I hope I don’t get sober soon!

It suddenly rains. Putting on my favourite jacket because the temperature is suddenly a couple of centigrades lower than earlier. Another man snores in another somewhere. The baby is silent now. And the man above…is still in my head.

So we are on our way to a big city. I carry a backpack my ex gave me when we were still cool and pretending to be okay together. And I have a big plastic box full of goodies. And by goodies, I mean buntings and cupcake holders and 3D letters and marshmallows and ribbons and scissors and patterned paper and other magical things that I need for decorating a dessert table for the christening’s party.

And in my finger, the fourth one in my left hand, the one they call the ring finger, I wear my wedding rings. Whew. I wear them not because I am still hoping for a reconciliation with my ex. I wear them not because I am still in love with him. I wear them as a reminder that I am not going to do foolish and adultery-ish things while I am still legally tied to the man who broke my heart. I wear them so I remember to respect my vows and to respect my son if not myself. I wear them to I learn how to wait and not to rush into things that in the future might just hurt me and my son. Oh this foolish girl, so freaking idealistic!

This man who occupies the cot above mine has said that he is willing to wait until the time that I am free. He has told me that he is willing for us to stay friends if friendship is all that I could offer…for now. He says he respects me, and so far he hasn’t done anything to prove otherwise.

And so we wait. We wait for when it will be safe for us to go out on a date without people judging me. We wait for when it will be okay for him to hold my hand. We wait for when it will be legal for him to kiss me or more (ahem). We wait for when I will be free to say “I do”. We wait. And while we do, I want to get to know him better. I want to make good and clean and modest and friendly memories with him. And I will also wait for the time when he falls in love, not with me, but with the little man. This probably is the most important thing of all. This and how important it is to me that he be someone who loves and follows God.

And we wait for as long as we could.

Everything is silent now except for the wind and the waves and the slow tireless murmur of the ship’s engine. And I wait.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s