Page 64 of Love's a Glitch
33
Luke
Itossed and turned on the cushy mattress set up in the canvas tent. It was far more like glamping than camping, and the weather had been mild, the food amazing. All in all, it was one of the smoothest trips I’d ever experienced. I’d met a ton of the racers and their families before the start of the event, which had me cheering on my personal favorites.
Yet each night I’d walk into the tent and a hollow yawning pit would open in the center of my chest. For one, the bedspread was a fiery fuchsia with beading that caught the light.
Ellie would’ve loved it.
Today I saw a kid riding a camel with a colorful unicorn horn strapped to the animal’s head. I’d lifted my camera, snapped a picture, and then studied the image to ensure I’d gotten it. The idea of showing it to Ellie, of the way her cheeks would pop out as she grinned, and that she’d definitely come up with a name for the unicorn camel, struck me so strongly that for a good minute or so, I’d been sure I was having a heart attack.
I flopped back on the bed, exhausted from keeping up with the racers, even with the help of the Jeep I’d rented. I ran my tongue over my teeth, the grit from the sand always there, regardless of how often I brushed, and closed my eyes.
Only to see Ellie.
She fucking haunted my every waking moment, my every thought, and just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, night would come and missing her would consume me and rob me of breath.
Sometimes her laugh filled my head; other times the image that came to me was from the yacht club party. Of her looking as beautiful as ever, tears shining in her eyes, one blink away from spilling down her cheeks.
How could I have just walked away?It’d seemed justified, like it was my only choice at the time. I’d packed fast and headed to the airport. With each step I put between me and the woman I was leaving behind, I assured myself once I’d put enough distance between us, it’d get better.
I rolled over and put the extra pillow over my head, as though having the cool material over my eyes and ears would shut out all the thoughts and emotions I didn’t want to deal with.
What good would staying have done? At the end of the day, what I could offer her wasn’t enough.
Was that really all you could offer her, though?
“Ugh.” I found myself reaching for my phone a dozen times throughout the day, expecting to see a text from Ellie. Everything I ate, everything I drank, I would find myself wanting to take a picture of it so I could send it to her and then we could chat about it, because nothing meant anything without the ability to share it. I was sure she’d be a fan ofkahwa, the strong coffee they flavored with cardamom and served with dates. I’d wanted to tell her that I’d been brave and triedhalwa, this gelatinous mixture, only to be told it was three months old, and wasn’t it cool it lasted that long without losing any of its quality and flavor?
Even hiking and climbing and taking my body to the very brink didn’t rid me of the emptiness that’d overtaken my life. I’d climbed to the top of one of the sheer cliffs today, stood at the top by myself and didn’t feel an ounce of accomplishment.
How long could I go on like this? I wasn’t sure.
But I had the next two months booked solid, and I told myself over and over that surely not any longer than that.
* * *
“Here he comes….”
Everyone waiting around the finish line began getting into place, buzzing with excitement as they readied to greet the first-place finisher of the race. The man from Kazakhstan took an early lead, but lost ground climbing one of the mountains. Today he’d pushed himself hard and slowly began catching up to the racers who’d passed him. Then he’d pulled ahead, only by a matter of a minute or so, but somewhere during the last thirty minutes, he’d pushed hard enough that no other racers were in sight yet. I messed with the lens of my camera, sharpening in on the features of the runner with the impressive background for contrast, and then focusing on the background while the man’s features blurred.
The crowd cheered as he crossed the line, and I expected him to fall to his hands and knees for a rest. Instead, his head swiveled around, in search of—a woman ran through the crowd with a squeal, shouting for joy as she threw her arms around his neck and peppered his face with kisses, all while telling him she knew he could do it.
A reporter shoved his way in, and for the first time I could ever remember, irritation rose at their special moment being interrupted. Just because I could snap pictures didn’t make me much less intrusive than the reporter—it was part of the job, honestly, and the racers deserved their moment of glory.
“…urge to give up was strong,” the man was saying, his English far better than the rough snippets of other languages I’d picked up. “I’d lost so much ground, and my body was screaming no more. But then…I thought of what was waiting for me at the finish line…”
“A big glass of water?” the reporter joked, and several people chuckled.
“What is water without someone to share it with?” he replied, slinging his arm around the woman who beamed at him. “This win wouldn’t mean anything without my sun and my moon.”
They kissed and I lifted my camera and captured it. I’d ask permission before sharing, but it was too beautiful a moment to miss.
Over the next several hours, more and more people crossed the line. Not everyone had loved ones waiting—some had to call theirs to report in. Even those who had tears of pain streaming down their face and blood all over their feet, smiled once they greeted their loved ones, who tended to them and hugged them and showered them with affection. The more I watched, the emptier I felt.
It was a different kind of emptiness. One that spoke of not a random hole, but a missing piece.
Without Ellie in my life, all my adventures meant nothing. She’d been my biggest adventure of all. I pictured rushing toward a finish line and seeing her there waiting for me. My heart expanded and joy cleared away the cobwebs of misery that’d overtaken me the past couple of weeks.
