It’s summer.
The birds are chirping and the air is heavy with humidity, but there is a slight breeze rustling the leaves. My sister Chelsea and I look out over the Middlebury pond half way up the Snow Bowl.
I pretend not to notice the beautiful blond scholar sitting and studying her books close to the waters edge, not 10 feet from me, as she similarly pretends that she hasn’t seen the sweaty mess that has just stumbled into her life. It’s an intense emotional dance we do; each pretending like our lives didn’t just change forever.
Chelsea seems to be ignorant of the firestorm of emotions volleying back and forth between my future girlfriend and me, and she turns to walk away along the shore, thus continuing our hike. I sigh giving one last look to blondie, realizing our worlds were too different, and that it never would have worked out anyway. My sister, now navigating down a steep embankment, suddenly loses her footing and makes an ungainly entrance into the muddy waters that surround the shore.
As Chelsea silently curses and pleads with me to help her out of her out of the dilemma she has put herself in, I quickly turn on my heel and make sure I was the only one privy to this harrowing scene.
I left Chelsea there to surreptitiously extricate herself from the murky depths, as I quickly made for my own, more graceful exit. Making for the woods I offered my would be ex one last half salute/wave as we locked eyes for the last time. I turn around just in time to come face to face with a protruding branch.
My head stops dead, but my feet keep on moving, and suddenly I am horizontal with the ground.
Not so much embarrassed as mortified, I flip around onto my stomach; do a 180-degree spin, and army crawl into the concealment of the shrubbery.
A cruel ending, to a tragic love story.
Life.Love.Skiing. 