In the eerie silence of darkness, I lie awake and listen to my head debate. Was it true? Was she even real? Sometimes the car lights passing through my bedroom window would break my reverie but on most times these debates would haunt me until I fall asleep.
Remembering that day is like watching an old film: everything in sepia, a sad song playing on the background, the lenses slowly focus on the gazebo on the far end of Swan Lake Reservoir and there I was with Jamie, sitting side-by-side, and then everything is in color.
Jamie and I basically grew up together. Our fathers were business partners while our mothers were part of the board in our school. It was the 4th of May when I brought Jamie to the gazebo. I guess I was hoping that Jamie would agree to be my girlfriend if I ask her on the same place my father proposed to my mom. She was sixteen then, I seventeen.
Using the canoe we rented, I rowed us through the reservoir. I was very happy when Jamie enjoyed herself feeding the swans in the lake. Jamie stepped out of the canoe when we reached the gazebo. It was a beautiful place: the gazebo was all white, vines hugging the columns; the floor was made of specially-designed marble tiles while the ceiling was painted with angels. While I was tying the canoe in the small dock, Jamie started to dance. Her soft fragile arms were in the air, her body swaying in a distant tune. Her skirt twirled with grace, her feet poised and tiptoed. Jamie has always been a great ballet dancer. I can’t help but be fascinated.
I hated myself for being too ordinary – average looks, average mind. She was endlessly fascinating. It was too painful thinking about how undeserving I was of her.
She was twirling when she lost balance. I caught her before she hit the marble floor. Touching her, it was difficult not to kiss her. I was surprised when Jamie grabbed my head and kissed me, kissed me hungrily.
The wind blew softly. The lake sang and the swans danced.
“Thanks.” Jamie said.
“Be careful now.”
We sat there, holding hands. Jamie took over most of the conversation, but it was okay. I was more than happy to listen – and to really listen – for at that moment, she was the only one that mattered.
She suddenly stopped talking.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I’m leaving Seth.”
I felt my heart broke. Seeing that I won’t reply, Jamie spoke again.
“Remember my ballet instructor Mrs. Harris? She sent my credentials to a ballet school in London and they granted me a scholarship. I’ll be studying there for four years.”
I couldn’t speak.
“Jamie, I –“
“I know you love me, Seth.”
She held my face and took a deep breath.
“And please believe me when I say that I love you too. I swear on every swan here that I am in love with you. That’s why I ask you to wait for me. I promise I’ll be back.”
This time I was the one who kissed her. I couldn’t understand myself. I was sad that she’s leaving but my happiness warmed my heart with the knowledge that Jamie loved me too.
With the gentlest touch I unbuttoned Jamie’s blouse while she undid my shirt. We explored each other’s bodies and held each other in the cold marble floor. I held her soft breasts in my hands and kissed them. Her arms tightened around me when I went inside her and when I reached climax, her moan was the best sound I've ever heard.
We stayed lying there, our naked bodies touching each other, catching our breath. We got dressed and sat side-by-side in silence.
"Take this." Jamie said handing over her locket. "Give it back when I return."
It’s been two years since Jamie left for London.
Jamie’s locket rests on my drawer, together will all the letters she sent me. I got up, took the locket, and I was convinced that Jamie was real. And she loves me.
