Prospect Park, Seattle, Spring 2008

Prospect Park, Seattle, Spring 2008

I remember when I went to that park in Seattle, a cold day in June when I wanted it to be warmer. Samm had told me it was a beautiful spot, so I took the afternoon off and rode my bike across the Seattle city to the coast, dropping down through the dunes and sat on logs watching the waves of the Puget Sound come in. Cold water, late afternoon, and I swam, or tried. Only my knees, shorts getting wet and creeping up my thighs.

My head hurt it was so cold, the sun setting. I rode back in the dark, shivering with the breeze, lost at ties in long residential neighborhoods. I sent Samm a text message saying how pretty it was, lying.

I was lonely. I wanted to share something with her, with somebody, so I rode my bike and went further away from everyone I knew just to see the sun set. To be in Nature.

But Nature is not that way. Nature is not solitary, and neither is Love. They are communion, interdependence even when we cannot see it, hands reaching under the table to hold each other. They are not lonely bare feet on dark stones in cold water. I was groping for love. She never messaged me back, and I went home to eat and sleep, sad.