The following excerpt is from my book The Divide.
The wind was ceaseless. It filled the sails of the boat and pushed me further out to sea. It raised bumps on my skin as well, but the sun was bright and the sky clear. I breathed the ocean salt and bid farewell to land as it retreated over the horizon. I turned to face the ocean ahead of me and said goodbye to a love lost. Laurie. We had been in love. She had been a fairy tale.
I met her before I started college and only knew her briefly. We lived far away from each other and fell out of touch. It wasn’t until after my first novel was published that we reconnected. I had been traveling around the country to promote my book when I landed near her home. She came to a book signing. I recognized her instantly, but I didn’t let it show on my face. She walked up to the table and handed me her copy.
I can’t remember what I said, but it made her laugh. Her laugh was the greatest and sounded just how I remembered. She scanned my face for any sign of recognition, but I played it off like she was another person in the crowd. I handed her book back and her face fell.
She was halfway to the door when I called out her name and told her to read the inscription.
Laurie — You are even more beautiful than I remember, which was already more than I thought possible. Please have lunch with me.
That was the beginning of our relationship. We were together for several months, but the distance made it hard. She flew cross-country to visit me for a weekend. She broke it off. She went back east; I went further west and refused to stop at the ocean. The wind carried me away from all of that pain. Or so I thought. What if I hadn’t gone west? What if I had followed Laurie east? What if I had tried to make it work? What was it about tragedy that I found so appealing?
I didn’t get on that sailboat. I didn’t have a relationship with Laurie. I never wrote an inscription in her book.
I never wrote a book.
I never left my bike.
But the wind was ceaseless.