Its been hard.
Daily routines consisting of chores bring forth added weight to a back, already constrained. Yet,
nothing hurts me anymore.
I am numb to pain and suffering.
Here among the Elements.
Its early evening now. The winter makes its presence known with cold air sifting through the stiff structure one calls home. The guitar emerges, and we know what is coming.
Simon strums the strings with a melody unique to the one before. David begins to sing.
I strum my fingers on the table, embracing this moment.
The week has been lonely. Tough. Yet here we all are, smiling, laughing.
I knock back my drink and grimace. It isn’t the wine I’m used to. It isn’t wine. I laugh and continue to listen.
Their voices are louder now as their chorus kicks in. I recognise the lyrics now and join in when I can.
I’m lucky they exist.
I try not to continue reflecting on the bitter solitude of the past week.
The draft again sweeps through the room. Brr. I shiver.
Goosebumps appear on my exposed skin. I sit on my hands for warmth, before eventually surrendering to the Element; so, I wear my jumper.
The comforting embrace of heat I receive from the cotton eases my shivering. But I am still cold.
I stand up. Like a dog I shake my torso to heat myself up.
The alcohol is taking over now. I embrace it and begin to laugh more. Finally, I’m ok.
We walk down the beach now. It’s dark, I can barely make out the silhouettes of David and Simon but I know they’re there. They’re in conversation now, but I’m not focusing.
Instead, I am listening to the serenity of the beach. The cold now doesn’t bother me. Ha, the irony.
In the room I shivered as if suffering from hypothermia. Yet, exposed in natures backyard, I am ok. Exposed to the howls of the city’s wind off its shoreline, I am ok. I inhale through my nose, momentarily closing my eyes. I am ok. I am ok. I open my eyes smiling.
Simon’s found us a spot now. Somewhere to sit. Somewhere sheltered.
We follow his determined, albeit drunken, lead. During this brief transition not a word is spoken. We hear each others footsteps trudging through the moist sand. I can’t see the footprints, but I imagine them.
We arrive at the bench. The three of us claim a portion of the seating, before turning our attention to the destructive ocean before us.
“The foam from the sea is amazing.” I point to the breaking waves.
They agree and debate whether the distant lights on the horizon belong to a boat or lighthouse. I moderate and say it could be a stationary boat with lights. They look at me and laugh.
I smile and laugh too.
The solitude and difficult moments of the last week seem like a distant memory.
I smile as we embrace each other with drunk affection, laughing and talking.
Nothing hurts me here.
Here among the Elements.
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