A Day on the Beach

It was one of those windy sunny days I always felt people should be happy about, walking around aimlessly, feeling the soft breeze on their skin, the morning sun shining brightly and warming up their hands and feet, without being too hot. Yet, I never felt such a joy myself, it existed just as ideal imagery in my mind, something other people could enjoy, but not me, oh, no, never me.

I walked out of one of those towering modern office buildings dressed in a formal suit and carrying my favorite briefcase, which felt completely superfluous now, ridiculous even. I heaved a heavy sigh watching a pair of children, a boy and a girl, as they walked by me, most likely on their way to school, chatting and laughing insouciantly. Instead of feeling warmed inside by their carefree smiling faces, I felt bitter, so bitter I felt a sudden urge to tell something mean to them, to tell them to hurry up and stop laughing, or even yell at them. Instead, I just frowned, not at them, at myself and my petty thoughts. Mean, mean loser! I thought to myself.

I probably stood there for a good few minutes and, all of a sudden, becoming conscious of strange looks directed towards me by the passing people, I decided to move. I had nothing to do, nowhere to go, no obligations, no one to see. However tempting and amazing that used to sound to me a few years ago, I felt like it was such a burden now. I felt futile, if I were to be honest, and being without a purpose was the worst thing that could ever have happened to me, especially now, but it was tiring to even think about it.

Everything was so tiring these days, even such a simple and mundane thing as getting up, even waking up in the morning. Doing anything else felt like such a triumph. Brushing my teeth; washing my face; making coffee; drinking it; sitting at the desk, searching through ads, for hours and hours on end, paralyzed, immobile, like a statue, my guts churning, my heartbeat soaring into new heights each day; taking my medication; occasionally taking a piece of bread or some discounted oranges; staring through the window at the endless rows of hideous buildings, hoping, in vain, to see, just once, even the smallest portion of the sea in the distance; loitering through my apartment, forgetting what I wanted to do or take or make; occasionally standing in the same spot in front of the mirror, looking at my bleak expression, observing the object that was my body, that represented me in the reflection, a disgusting figure observing me back; taking my medication, again; going back to bed, wishing I were dead, facing an endless, sleepless night, again. How dreadful and miserable became the time that reflected what now my life was.

Walking down the street, now, in an unknown direction, I chided myself for even having this on my mind. Why did I have to repeat this horror in my mind, over and over again? I knew it was useless and quite idiotic, to be frank, but I could not stop seeing me doing all those things, day after day, that awful, disconnected expression on my face in the mirror. It seemed as if I was already dead but did not know how and when it happened and whether or not the funeral of my inner being ever took place. It was such a beautiful day, developing its shine in all its glory, but it was already the deepest night for me and I had no sense of joy or hope at all. The road in front of me seemed dreary; my feet were not cooperating, seemingly sticking to the pavement as if I were walking through the quicksand; my briefcase was becoming heavier and heavier. I looked in front of me and saw a bench, it was a salvation.

As I was sitting on that lonely bench in a shade of a lean birch tree, I longed for something to happen, anything really, something horrible, deadly, like an earthquake, or something magnificent, significant, like a sudden ring of the phone, a familiar voice. It’s been over a year since I’ve last heard that voice, yet I had a feeling it never stopped echoing in my ears. For a moment, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine that lovely face that matched the voice and all its lines and edges, but somehow there was no clear image of that face in my mind. There were only an outline and a strand of ash-blonde hair across the forehead, nothing more. It made me sad. It hurt, but it was a relief.

I just sat there with my eyes closed. All thoughts escaped my mind and I felt free. I felt that this could be a splendid day, joyful even, radiant. I felt I could start over, get a loan, maybe move closer to the beach, and finally get that sea view. Maybe the fact that the face couldn’t come up in my mind was a sign, maybe it was time, time to live again. I was not sure where this rushing optimism came from but I was grateful for it, although I knew I should be apprehensive. Haven’t I felt the same only a few weeks ago? Didn’t I feel even worse immediately the next day? What was I supposed to do now? I didn’t know. I wished for someone to just tell me what to do, but there was no one around, and either way, I wasn’t sure I’d even listen. I opened my eyes and looked around. The world around me was unmoved by my thoughts, everything was the same, but a vague sense of change lifted me from the bench and sent me going further down the road.

I could see the cerulean blue of the sky and sea merging in the distance, as though they were embracing passionately and dancing in slow motion under the bright light of the sun which was now slowly climbing up. The sign by the road notified me that the beach was only three kilometers away and, although I was in my suit and high-heels, I decided to walk there. It was such a warm day, after all, and I haven’t been to the beach since … a long time ago. It should be fun or pleasant, at least. I must admit I felt excited and that in itself felt like a small miracle. I imagined myself living like this, being me again, actually feeling something genuine, something powerful. I tried to cry last night, oh, how I tried! But there was nothing, not a single tear in me, not a single wail, a sob even. Just nothing, void, a black hole filling me up to the brim. And look at me now, walking briskly towards a place I just chose to go to, my lips instinctively curling into a vague smile, my heart beating a little bit faster. I felt I could cry right then and there, without a particular reason, neither from grief nor from joy, simply cry, like a newborn baby, inhaling the air for the first time and crying out loud from life, cold, bright and rough, that just happened to it. I did not cry, however, but it felt encouraging that I knew I could. There was a sense of safety in a simple certainty that I am, once again, in possession and control of my tears.

I was now approaching the beach and I decided to first get myself a few items from the nearby store. I went in and carefully examined the rails, searching for the specific brands I liked, trying to pamper myself by choosing exactly the bottle of raspberry iced-tea I liked, a pack of dried figs and two large green apples I once used to eat almost daily and now never bothered to even look at. These were just simple pleasures, inexpensive enough that I could afford them, yet giving me a sense of happiness every five-year-old would thoroughly understand when presented with a lollipop. I walked out of the store and was about to cross the road when I heard a voice calling after me and a sound of running feet behind me.

“May! May!”

I turned around, recognizing the voice, and waited for Lena to run up to me. I didn’t expect to encounter anyone I know in this area of the town and I was utterly antagonized by her appearance out of nowhere, and her of all people. Horrible! Why? Why did you have to come here, you stupid …

“Hey, Len”, I say to her, smiling my best imitation of a genuine smile I practiced in front of the mirror right this morning for the interview. “How are you? What brings you to this part of the town?”

“Hey there”, she says, panting a bit. “I was just picking up some paperwork for a project, nothing special. Heard you’ve applied for the job of a secretary at Thomson’s. Weren’t you supposed to have an interview today?”

“Yes, just finished with it.”

“And? How did it go?”

“Well, depends on how you look at it. They said I’m over-qualified, so … well.”

“Oh, well, it’s so beyond you, anyway, if you don’t mind me say that, you’ll find something better in no time. Listen, there’s an opening at a small school downtown, would you like me to recommend you? It’s nothing spectacular, I admit, but it’s something.”

“I’m … Well, thanks, sure … I wouldn’t like to bother you.” My face, I felt, was a display of a wide specter of colors from yellow, through green, to fiery red. I hated myself for thanking her, for smiling like a fool, for agreeing. I hated her for offering this, for humiliating me, for stealing my chances with her dirty dances and drunken kisses, taking my place with her pretty, empty head and shaking hips. Disgusting creatures, both of us, at that moment.

“No bother at all”, she said, genuinely not noticing or pretending not to notice my discomfort. “So, tell me, how have you been lately?”

“Fine, really fine.”

“I heard about what happened, with Amy, we’ve never got to talk about it, I’m really sorry, such a horrible accident. Are you doing O.K.?”

“Yes, it was awful. It’s hard, you know, but I’m doing well, thank you for your concern.”

“I wish I could help you somehow, please let me know if you need anything. O.K? And I’ll call you about that job! I’m really in a rush now, got to go, but let’s meet for a drink or something soon.”

“Yeah, sure. Thank you, Len. See you!”

“See you, May. Take care.” And with that, she was gone, on her way to a job that was supposed to be mine, while I was just rejected, for God knows which time in a row.

Her silhouette was already disappearing around the corner but her words lingered in my mind. An opening in a small school; what happened to Amy; horrible; accident … Amy, Amy, Amy… And just like that, there appeared a face to match the voice in my head, a clear face with its eyes and lips and nose and cheeks, and it was too much to imagine, too much to remember, too much to forget. I stood there, sweating in my ridiculous suit, holding that goddamned briefcase and a bag with bloody apples, figs, and iced-tea; as if I truly believed they were going to make me feel happy. As if anything could. A joyful day on the beach. What a charade!

I felt like such a fool again. Stupid! Stupid! But the beach was right across the road, I was already there and it looked like the scenario was already written and proofread. A day on the beach was going to happen, with a severe mood-swing, but who cares. I crossed the street and decided to search for a nice, secluded place on the beach, undisturbed by anyone’s gaze. I walked along the beach for, what seemed to me, hours, but it probably wasn’t longer than half an hour, when I came across a small part of the beach sheltered by the rocks and tall cliffs leaning above a tiny space between them and the sea. It was perfectly isolated and tranquil.

I sat down and laid my briefcase and the bag beside me. The waves were crashing against the rocks and sprinkles of cold water found their way to my bare legs and feet. The tide was coming in and it looked as if the sea was coming nearer to embrace me, to comfort me. I stared at the rising waves for a long time and finally the tears came, uninvited, but welcome. The sea came a bit closer and embraced my feet completely, gently caressing them with its frosty hands.

I reached for my briefcase. Medication time. A pill to make me numb, just like in that song I loved so much. I got a new medicine prescribed just a few days ago, the bottle was full, it surprised me with its fullness, with the fat green pills gathered tightly together. I took one with a gulp of water, but something stirred inside me, so I took another one, and another, and another ... The bottle lay empty now beside me and the sea started to climb up my legs, gripping them tightly with its deathly arms. I felt a bit groggy and I lay down on the warm sand closing my eyes for the last time. The sleep was coming and a familiar face lingered in the corner of my mind whispering something pleasant in my ear, the smell of fresh coffee from her lips brushing against my senses. Oh, the sleep was coming, peace, finally. It felt good to let go of myself. Soon, the waves will be washing over me.