Page 24 of Pity Parade

I wonder if simply being in a big city filled enough space in my life that it kept me from feeling empty. Now that I’m in a laid-back environment where people know how to stop and smell the roses, I’m floundering like a fish out of water. Cliches are apparently my friends today.

I’m suddenly desperate to get outside and feel the night air on me. I’ve never been claustrophobic before, but I’m starting to have the sensation of being buried alive. Instead of going for a stroll, I walk straight to my car and get in. Then I roll down all the windows and drive in hopes of clearing my head.

I don’t know where I’m going, I just know I need to get there. When I finally lift my foot off the gas pedal, I discover I’m back at the cottage next door to Heath. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want to see him.

Suddenly, I know what I have to do. I need to go lie at the end of the dock and pretend I’m floating on the water. Just me, under a nearly full moon, trying to figure out where my place is.

I don’t turn on any lights while letting myself inside. I don’t want to alert my neighbor to my presence. Tiptoeing onto the back deck, I grab a throw and a pillow. Once I get to the end of the dock, I lie down and stretch my arms out so they’re nearly on opposite sides of the pier.

Staring up at the moon, I start a slow mantra in my head. Everything is going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. There’s a plan for your life. Just breathe. I say it repeatedly until my pulse slows.

When I was little, I used to gaze up into the night sky and wonder if there was another little girl in some far-off world staring back across the cosmos at me. I decided if we could meet, we’d be the best of friends. As strange as it sounds, that made me feel less lonely. It didn’t even matter that my fantasy pal resided on another planet. I wonder why I’m thinking about her now.

I suppose that while Midwestern Matchmaker was running, I felt I was living my purpose. But now that it’s over and there’s nothing to take its place, I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. I laugh quietly as I consider the logistics of becoming an astronaut in hopes of meeting my extraterrestrial friend.

My mom has always told me that I work too hard and that I need to take time for myself. I’ve always liked to think that I would do that someday, but now that that day is here, I’m not sure how to progress.

Closing my eyes, I focus more intently on my breathing. In the air goes … then out. In and out. I don’t know when I fall asleep, all I know is I lose consciousness and simply float away. I don’t wake up it’s starting to get light, and I hear a splashing sound close by.

Turning to my side, I groan as my body animates for the first time in hours. A family of ducks is swimming on the lake, and they’re dipping their heads into the water and then flinging them out. They’re so playful and peaceful, I wish I were one of them.

“They certainly seem to be living the life.” I jump when I hear Heath’s voice. Why does he keep sneaking up on me? I don’t have a chance to ask, because he reaches out a hand and offers me a cup of coffee.

Sitting up, I stare at it like it’s poison. Although to be honest, as far as peace offerings go, it’s a good one.

“It’s just coffee,” he assures me. “Were you out here all night?”

I take the mug with a fair amount of trepidation. “I fell asleep.”

“You do that often?”

“Oh, yeah. I sleep out on Lake Michigan so much I’m thinking about moving out of my apartment.”

He doesn’t react to my sarcasm. Instead, he sits down beside me and announces, “I loved sleeping out as a kid. I haven’t done it since I was a teenager though.”

“I didn’t plan on sleeping here,” I tell him. “I just laid down and boom, lights out.”

“Good for you. That’s a sign you’re relaxing.”

I can either keep my previous animosity alive or I can let this be a nice exchange. I did take the man’s coffee after all. I decide to offer another possibility. “It might also be a sign that I’m losing it.”

In response, he confesses, “I’m not sure I can take a whole summer off. I’m used to being so busy that I’m feeling stir crazy and I’ve only been at it for a day.”

“It takes time to decompress.” Putting my coffee down, I tighten the blanket around my shoulders.

“How long have you been in Elk Lake?” he wants to know.

“Four days.”

“And you’ve adjusted?”

I shake my head. “It apparently takes longer than four days.”

Heath snorts. “Yeah, but you just slept out all night without realizing it. That says something.”

I decide to come clean. “I was having a panic attack last night and the only thing I could think to combat it was to come out here.” I know I wouldn’t be so honest with Heath if we weren’t sitting on an isolated dock in Elk Lake in the early morning hours.

“Do you have those often?”

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