Lifeguard
Amy's been gone a few weeks now. I've tried to understand why she did what she did but I really can't piece it together. This isn't like her. She's been pulling away from me ever since she told me she loved me. On the one hand I understand it, on the other I feel irrational and selfish and I just wish she could still be my Amy because I really need her right now.
That sounds selfish. It is selfish. We used to need each other though. There used to be a time when we were both ridiculously selfish for each other. Somewhere along the line she stopped needing me and started wanting me. That's where things got hard.
And then I went and fucked everything up at that party.
So now I'm here alone, every day. I'm trying to work through what happened without her but that really is impossible, I'm not good enough for her. I know I'm not.
Almost every day now I sit up in my tower and watch the swimmers swim.
I locked-in the morning shifts because nobody else wants them. It guarantees me hours and the shifts are just generally so calm that it's like some form of random therapy I'm forcing myself to take.
On most days no one comes in until late. There's been this one girl who comes in at the same time every day and swims all alone for a very long time. Occasionally she'll stop at the end of the pool and just stare out at nothing. I can tell she's thinking about things like I am. I'm actually curious about her life. I wish I knew why she swam alone at 5am every day. I wish I knew where she went right after. I wish I knew if she was lonely like me.
Instead of being a creep though, I watch her body as it moves from one side of the pool to the next. I hold my lifeguarding tube at the ready just in case I should ever need to save her. But I know she doesn't need saving. I know it'd be more likely for her to save me from something than for me to save her. And yet, every day, for at least two hours, it's my job, just to save her, just her.
Today's no different. She comes in and I look up from the table where I wait before the swimmers come. Often I read when there's no one around. Soon as someone comes into my area I have to be alert.
I brush my hand through my hair and acknowledge her while trying to be cool and a non-annoyance. It hasn't failed to cross my mind that perhaps she doesn't want to really talk or see anyone on these mornings. I give her that. A wordless nod and a serious face that translates the message, I am here for you and I am brave.
As she walks to the other end of the pool I walk to my lifeguard stand, grab my tube, and climb the tower.
She stretches and I watch. She's not even in the pool yet I watch.
I can feel her noticing my eyes. I can feel her choosing to pretend I'm not here only for her.
She places her hands on the pools edge, leans back and throws herself in with a well-practiced dive.
She's just like Amy…