on with the story!
That morning when I walked off the Delta Airlines Boeing 747, Miami was hot,humid, and too sunny for my taste. Inside I was feeling like ice was surrounding my heart, numbing it.Numbing my soul, and spirit.
Memories began presenting themselves in my brain. I struggled with the need to repress and the need to revel. As I walked through the terminal and over to baggage claim nostalgia ruled over my thoughts, but it had to stop. I was going to break down and I didn't want that. I needed to stay strong; repression was my only option.
I walked out of baggage claim and to my surprise there was Tim Speedle. His hair was long and shaggy, his stubble was the closest I've ever seen to beard, he wore faded jeans and a sad expression. When he saw me his face lit up slightly and a small smile appeared.I smiled in return. When I approached him he pulled me into a close hug. I felt, for the first time in ages, safe and cared for. The tears started to well up, and before I knew it they were pouring out of my eyes like a flood gate had been opened. He held me close, and I seem to remember the feel of his own hot tears against the skin of my neck.
We pulled apart, and I put on the smile that I had become so talented at using to conceal my pain and anguish. He put on his version of the 'everything'sfine' mask. He took my bag and we worked our way outof the throng of people to my aunt's Ford Explorer.
Apparently Jim and Norma had an appointment with the funeral home at the same time my flight was due. In all honesty I was glad that it hadn't been them picking me up. What could I have said to them?"I'm so sorry, I know how you're feeling, but I don't."
The ride back to my aunt and uncle's beach-front property was silent except for the sound of the radio. Some classic rock station. They were playing Lynard Skynerd's 'free bird'. It had been a favorite of Kyle's. As the song blared through the speakers we drove passed the beach that we has come to claim as 'ours' and the ice cream shop that we would take my little brothers to. It was hard not to get a little emotional seeing these places that I would never be able to go to with out wishing he were there,but I was damn well going to try and and hide the fact that any of it bothered me. I didn't want Tim to think of me as weak, or whiny. I didn't want him to think of me as any of the terrible things that my father had called me because of having emotions.
But my attempt at being stoic wasn't being bought. Tim just took my hand in his, never taking his eyes off the road mind you, and told me that he didn't know what I was feeling, but that the first time he had driven by these land marks it had taken a toll on his raw emotions. I think that was the moment I knew that I loved this guy.That was the moment that I vowed to myself that this was the man I was going to marry.
He didn't try to make me happy, and he didn't pretend to know what I was feeling. He had given me my space,but offered his own experience as a way to tell me whatever I was feeling was okay. At the time I was greatful to have him there, but I didn't really think about the future that much. I was too busy living in the past.