Safe Harbor

"It's going to rain. You can feel it in the wind, as the pressure hangs over your head like a ticking time bomb. Any minute now. Your eyes scowl at the approaching darkness, simultaneously scanning the vicinity for a possible retreat. The idea of walking in the rain, water dripping off your eyelids, the clothes sticking to your skin has never appealed to you. So you brace yourself for the impact. A passive acceptance trickling in with the first drop of rain. 

But wait! There's still hope. At first, you don't believe your eyes. You blink and it's still there like a mirage in the middle of the desert or more contextually, a lighthouse in the storm. Your feet start toward it on its own accord, initially a bit unsure, but gradually breaking into a run as more droplets join in on the assault. Something passes by, perhaps a ghost of a memory. The strangest feeling is to return to a place which you once frequented, and to find it exactly the same and yet so different. You know this is the place where you've chased fall leaves and made snowmen, the place that still echoes of long lost laughter and smells like old friends. The house stands tall before your eyes. Imposing and distant. Shaking off the uncertainty, your fingers touch the door knob. The first knock is almost inaudible, but the second one does the job.

The door creaks open making a rusted sound as if unused to swinging inside or perhaps letting people in. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the darkness within and you find yourself gazing into a pair of cold eyes. It strikes you how recognition isn’t easy without a warm smile. After an awkward second, you scramble together some pieces of your wit and weave them into a few broken sentences to explain this unannounced visit- the rain, the refugee and the safe harbor. You try to cover up the pauses with a feeble smile. After a slight nod, the person lets you in. But you were expecting something more- a warm hug perhaps. 

Nevertheless, you make your way to the couch and sink into that familiar childhood spot. A quick glance around reveals that time has already been here before you and left few subtle foot marks behind. In the peeling paint, the torn couch and in the frosty faces of your friends. The wave of nostalgia hits hard. A deep ache for the once blue walls that always carried a piece of the sky outside, the comforting aroma of freshly baked chocolate cookies and the buzz of half suppressed laughter tries to overwhelm you. But you force it down some dark corner of your heart, for you have already known it wouldn’t be like the old times. Things change and so do people. You let it go. Nothing should dampen the sweet reunion of old friends.

As you resurface from your thoughts, you find that like a layer of dust, the same awkward silence from before has crept into your conversation. You try to dispense it off with few small talks about the callous weather, the neighborhood happenings, and the good old times. You try to break the ice, undo the wreckage of time and recreate your space in that house. But all you are greeted with is monosyllabic replies, lips set into hard lines, and a aloofness that is polite to say the least. A chasm grows in the pit of your stomach, quite alike the one that exists between you and these people who were once your friends. 

A part of you wishes that you had never set foot in this house again, at least then you could preserve the image of the last time you've been here. Back when you were still wanted, though it seems too far away now. You half choke on the dense atmosphere within this room, the simultaneous emptiness of it clings onto you tightly. You can't take it anymore. Standing up, you mutter something incoherently, perhaps a goodbye, an excuse for leaving early. But a part of you have already decided that they don't really care. You rush out of the door into the still raging storm, the soft whisper of rain a sweet relief from the deafening silence inside. How often have you taken things for granted thinking you have forever, only to return back and realize that they're long gone? A room full of ghosts, that's what all of it has turned into. 

As you reach the gate, you hear the slow creak of a door being shut. The door that you thought had the summer sun on the other side, only to reveal a dead winter night. The door that you have always hoped to find open. You don't turn around because something has already set within you. Slowly, you head off into the rain, all alone. Under the gray skies, laced with occasional lightning, you still feel more welcome than the place that was once your safe harbor. "

As I spoke the last sentence, my gaze flickered to his. All this time, he had been sitting quietly, staring off at space. I wondered if he even bothered to follow with my rant. But then he broke the silence with a single sigh. I took this as an invitation to continue. 

"When I came over today, you asked me what I was doing here. I didn't know we needed reasons to visit friends." 

"That's probably the longest answer ever for that particular question." He smiled wryly, but it didn't reach his eyes.

I knew he was trying to distract me, so I ignored him and pressed on, "You haven't waited half as long as me. With each passing day, the numbers keep on increasing. Number of missed calls and texts which you don't bother to reply anymore. Every time, I pass by, all I find are closed doors and windows. As if no one lives here anymore. As if I shouldn't be here anymore. I don't know what's going on with you and if you don't let me in, I'll never find out." 

My voice broke at the last statement. He didn't reply, just gazed absentmindedly at the opposite wall. I followed his vision to see the sky had darkened. There was a storm approaching. 

"I guess this is it then. If you decide otherwise, know that I'll be waiting for you."

I stood up in a daze. There were things I still wanted to say and do; like shake him awake off his reverie, open all the doors and windows to let in the sky and shout out the words "I miss you, please don't shut me out." right into his face.

All I did was quietly open the front door and slip off into the rain. A slow clock ticked away in my mind, telling me any treacherous moment the door would slam shut and it would be over. For what seemed like an eternity, I didn't hear anything. 

And then there it was, a single word breaking through the clouds like the defiant sun rays- " Wait! "

I turned around in astonishment and saw him half-walk and half-run to catch up with me. My heart inflated with a small hope, a possibility. 

"You're right. I was hiding away in that house, thinking that it would keep me safe from everything. But I have been so wrong- the house wasn't my safe harbor, it was always you. " He paused, just for a moment, and stared into my eyes. I didn't know what he found there, but something that willed him to go on. "And if I can't let you in yet, I thought, maybe........ I should take a walk with you outside. "

He looked somber while saying this, as if confessing a crime. I knew it was anything but that. From a corner of my eyes, I noticed the door. Wide open. Like a safe harbor always letting in lost ships. As we slowly started walking in the rain, my fingers intertwined with his, our feet sloshing water together; I hoped perhaps it would always stay that way.