Page 6 of Learning to Love

In my rush homeward, I'm speeding on the highway like I'm racing on the ocean. My pulse is up, my head feels leaden, and my thoughts are jumbled. I can't think straight. Last night is a puzzle that I can’t complete, fragments of thoughts and feelings that I can’t process. It’s never this bad. I usually navigate through overstimulation, but this time it’s different.Sheis different.

Off the bridge, it's straight into another world of older style houses and compact gardens on one side and skyscrapers on the other.

Fifteen minutes. That's how long it takes to get from my house in Bella Vista to Ellie's house. As I wait for my garage door to open, I start thinking I could turn around, fly over the bridge and be back at her house in only a quarter of an hour. That's faster than an average sailing race lap. I could go back, say all the right things, do all the right things ...

I park and enter my house through an inside door. As I stand in the hallway, I'm trying to remember why I bought this particular place. It seemed nice and cozy, a good area. Big enough for what I need, but not too big. Good entertaining, nice outdoor flow. Having come from Ellie's house, I feel like I'm in a fucking mausoleum. No laughter, no dog barking. I don't even have plants. Don't want them dying while I'm away.

I walk to my room to take a shower, and as the lukewarm water washes over my body I can't help but think of Ellie. Annoyed because I'm getting hard again at the thought of her, I dry briskly and put fresh clothes on.

The walls are trapping me in. Maybe I should go for a drive. No, I can't do that. Might end up back at her house. I pace around the open plan kitchen. I'll go for a run. It's Sunday morning. Perfect timing.

I pick up my phone and message Corey to see if he's keen to run together for an hour or so. He replies back straight away that he's up for it, and he'll see me here in ten.

If I continue pacing up and down like this, I'm probably going to tear a hole in the flooring. I decide to stand outside and look at the birds instead. Is that a tui bird call? I think I heard one this morning by Ellie's house.

Oh, for fuck's sake! I cover my face with my hands then go back inside. The scrap of paper with her number on it is where I'd left it on the kitchen counter. I'm going to have to throw it away. It's justtootempting.

Through the window, I see Corey's parking on the street, waving at me. I pick up my phone and keys, put on my sunglasses and cap, and give in. I pick up the piece of paper with Ellie's number and throw it in the outside bin on the way out.

"Hey, hey, bro. How's it going?" Corey's cheerful, as always, and wraps me in a bear hug. He probably wouldn't have made such a mess of everything with Ellie. Thinking of Corey with Ellie makes bile rise up my throat.

"You look a bit green, bro. Too much booze yesterday at Paddy's?" Corey's a tease. He knows me too well to think I'd drink too much.

"Nah. Let's get on with it. I say we run to the Marina, then back up the hill. Stop for a coffee on the way. How does that sound?" I'm keen for a punishing run, to make me think about anything but her, the slip of paper on top of my trash.

"Whoa. That's mean, man. We're going to be dead by the time we get back." Corey's a fitness fanatic. He's definitely joking.

"Last one buys the coffees," I throw behind my shoulder as I start running.

Corey laughs and easily catches up to me. We run in silence for the first five minutes. He keeps looking at me from time to time. He obviously wants to say something. When we stop at a traffic light, he's ready to burst. And he does. "So, what's going on? What'sreallygoing on?"

I lean against the pole and stretch my legs. How much should I say? What should I say? We've been sailing together for over ten years now, closer to fifteen. He knows me almost better than anyone, but I’ve never felt about a girl how I feel about Ellie. "Nothing."

The green man lights up, and we start running again at a steady pace. We run past tree-lined streets, wooden painted houses, and the urban landscape changes to city streets and tall apartment blocks.

A few moments later, Corey picks up the conversation like I’d not just shut it down. "Nothing like what? Is it … a girl?" Though I'm not very good with making out the meaning behind people's inflections, even I can tell he's incredulous.

"Don't know why you're so shocked. You always see girls. I bet you weren't home last night." I poke him.

"I wasn't. Were you?" He lowers his sunglasses as if to really look at me.

Silence.

"I can't fucking believe it. Tell me everything from start to finish. Including why the fuck are we running close to twenty miles on a Sunday morning in high heat."

"You're not going to like it, Corey." It sounds like an apology, but I’m not sure why.

"I'm not going to like it because you're you, and you can't just docasuallike the rest of us. You have to promise marriage to all of them." His words cut through me like a razor, and I retreat into silence again.

My failed engagement to Laura is still a sore point. I didn’t really think we were in love, butsomeonetold me friendship made a solid base for a good match. That may be true, but in our case it wasn't enough.

Corey sighs, from what feels like the depths of his soul. "I'm sorry bro. I don't want to see you hurt, that's all. Plus, what about racing? We're going away training up North starting tomorrow. Your mind needs to be focused on that, and the competitions we've got coming up. And what about the Olympics?"

He's right. He's not telling me anything I don't know. People in our position with stable relationships are few and far between. I’m happy with how my life is right now. Training. Racing.Winning. Proving to my parents continuously that I’m worthsomething. The last thing I’d want ischange. Change is painful. Change isvulnerable.

We reach the Marina where yachts are lined up in the sun. There's hustle and bustle, families with kids eating ice creams and waiting for their turn to board dolphin safari tours. We turn around before anyone recognizes us and make our way back to my house.

The run is uphill, much more challenging, but I push on, Corey's words running through my mind. We stop at my local café for a flat white coffee. By this time I'd forgotten about our bet, whoever loses pays for coffee. I absentmindedly order two double shot flat whites and pay.

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