Unquenched (3 page)

As Tristan grew nearer, he glanced my way, but walked by me on my
towel in the sand.  He had found a shady spot on a big fallen log where the
others soon joined him, about fifteen feet away.  Jordan sat next to me for a
moment in the sand.  He filled me in briefly on the details of their dive, but
then encouraged me to join the group as they ate.  I was so torn.  I could not
be near him.  Tristan, that was.  I felt that my feelings, both guilt and
excitement, were written all over my face.  I feared that Jordan could read
it.  Being close to Tristan would have only magnified my discomfort which I
thought had become so blatantly obvious.  But not to sit with them would have
been a statement of its own and I did not want to draw attention to myself.  So
we ate.  I sat at the extreme opposite end of the log from Tristan and engaged
in continuous conversation with anyone else who would.

I felt like I was hiding.  Running.  Suppressing the truth.  At
that moment I would have given anything just to look at him.  Tristan.  Just to
connect for half a moment the way I had learned we could.  But I couldn't.  I
had to keep my distance.  For Jordan.  It wouldn't have been fair if I didn't. 
He loved me.  If this was what it took to show me that we were not meant to be,
we would talk, but it would have to wait.  It wasn't the time.  My commitment
to him would have to last at least another six days. I had to wait until the
vacation's end.  But I could not act on anything else.  Respect, I owed Jordan
that much.

The group went out for one more dive while I waited on shore,
pondering over the realization of all that I had learned.  It scared me,
excited me and troubled me all the same.  I was in Southeast Asia with a man
who wanted to make me his yet drawn to another who I wasn't sure would.  The
one thing however, that I had been certain of, was that Tristan would be wrong
for me, regardless.

The clouds rolled in as we boarded the boat, the dark sky
resembling the heaviness inside of me.  I sat quietly on the return, withdrawn
and alone, hoping no one would notice a thing.  As we moved through the water
and watched Menjangan disappear, I saw Tristan glance my way.  But still, I
could not read his mind.  I was wearing a bikini, a purple one, and I wondered
if he liked what he saw or if it was just my wishful thinking.  Jordan appeared
normal, content with the day and for that I could only be thankful.

The van awaited us by the check-in hut as we hurried to beat the
rain.  The sky grew darker and the tropical paradise around us began to blow. 
There was something romantic about the setting, a warmth and serenity I could
not explain.  We began our journey as the van pulled away and I knew in an
hour's time Jordan and I would be returned to our hotel.  The remaining four
men would go over the mountains and back to their hotels on the other side of
Bali.

John, Tomas and Greg were seated in the back and before long they were
asleep.  It was raining, and the pitter patter on the roof and windshield
created a comforting sound.  Tristan and Jordan were wide awake and my heart
was racing steadily.  Tristan broke the silence and began to converse.  I felt Jordan's
presence, albeit passively, as Tristan and I continued to speak.  I sensed that
we had entered a world of our own, and there was no breaking the air between
us.  My giddiness returned, as did the spark, and I found it hard to control my
nervous laughter.

We all talked about what we did for a living as I listened with
trepidation.  Jordan, my sweet Jordan, why did he have to be so formal, so
analytical, so precise.  Sometimes it made me crazy.  He used special jargon
with excruciating details about his job which was twelve thousand miles away. 
This man from Germany did not care about the minutiae as I studied his face
while he listened.  As I sensed his sheer boredom, I felt embarrassed for Jordan,
yet ashamed of myself for feeling that way.  But that was his way, he was
thorough and exact, and I guess what one could call predictable.  What Tristan
shared next was somewhat unexpected as he told us that he was a flight
attendant.  At first I thought I had heard him wrong.  In fact, I thought he
was kidding.  It just didn't fit him.  He had a strategic mind, a quick mind,
that in my mind, seemed suited toward something more like finance.  Maybe
that's what I wanted of him.  But somehow it didn't matter.  Whatever he was, I
was intrigued by him but he was definitely an enigma.

About fifteen minutes before we arrived at our hotel, Tristan
informed us of his flight schedule.  He explained that upon his return from
vacation, he would have a flight to New York.  He would be arriving from
Germany on December 25, the evening of Christmas Day.  He looked at me, but
clearly asked Jordan, if either of us would be around.  Jordan didn't hesitate
and explained immediately that we'd be with his parents in Cape Cod.  I cringed
as he said it thinking I wouldn't be able to go, feeling even more uncertain
than I had before.  More than that, how could I miss the opportunity to see Tristan
again, alone, only two weeks from then in New York.  Tristan just smiled but
looked at me quite quizzically as if he had just learned something new.  I was
unsure of his thoughts, regarding my relationship with Jordan, because I knew I
had downplayed it that day.  I had not been overtly affectionate with Jordan,
as I had been leaving the door open for Tristan.

What was I possibly
thinking
?
  A six foot
four, German man, was not someone I should be thinking about.  Being Jewish and
American, a born and bred German was not a fitting match for me.  And he lived
in Germany and I in New York.  Why did I have this need to see him again?

The van pulled up to our hotel, the rain subsided and the guys in
the back had awakened.  We all said good-bye but no cards were exchanged.  I
thought that was strange after a day of making new friends.  I wished that
someone would have made the gesture, and then I could have just followed suit. 
But I was so uncomfortable with the whole situation, that I feared asking Tristan
for his number.  I was equally uncomfortable giving him mine in fear of hurting
Jordan.  I had been afraid that Jordan would see right through me.  Had I not
felt for him, Tristan I mean, I wouldn't have thought twice about it.  In fact
I would have thought it normal.

We were about to depart the van and my mind began to race.  Tristan
would be on Bali for another nine days, and after a quick stop in Germany, he
would be in New York only one week after I returned home.  I did not have his
number, or even his last name.  I felt helpless inside but fought to think of Jordan. 
I had known Tristan for less than twelve hours but I knew right then that I had
to see him again.  He had captured a part of me and he was not just a passing
fancy.  That much I was sure of.  Jordan stepped down and walked away from the
van, and as he did, I looked straight into Tristan's eyes.  It was then that I
knew for certain.  I knew that I was not alone in what I was feeling, and that
he too, wanted to make certain that we would see each another again.  As we
both remained silent, our eyes spoke words, but words that could not confirm
the future.  I felt his eyes upon me as I stepped out of the van, I closed the
door, and I looked back just one more time.  He had not blinked, as we both
locked eyes, and he let me see what he was feeling.  As Jordan walked inside, I
watched the van pull away, and all I felt was depleted.

When I entered the room, Jordan was tidying and seemed happy to
see me come in.  At that point I felt secure that he had not picked up on what
I was feeling, or at least the degree to which I was feeling it.  Jordan was
astute and extremely aware but I had tried desperately to hide my feelings.  I
was happy that somehow he couldn't read my thoughts but I was frustrated with
him despite it.  It wasn't his fault and I knew it, but he was the reason that
I could not pursue what had been close enough to touch.  I needed to talk about
it and needed to release all the energy inside of me.  I felt a loss for
something that I had never had, and needed the soothing words of someone who
understood.  But I understood, only too well, that Jordan could not be that
person.  But there was no one else.  No one I knew and no one that would
listen.  So I would find a way, I had to.

"Jordan, do you think that we were unfriendly by not offering
them our telephone numbers in New York?" I finally asked.  I justified my
question by explaining to him, "If the roles were reversed and we were
abroad, I would hope that they would extend themselves to us.  It just seemed
like the right thing to do," I added.

"Funny you should ask," he surprised me by saying.
"I actually thought about it too.  I even thought about getting together
with them when we go back to the other side of Bali," he responded. 
"But I know you, and you usually don't like to be with other people, so I
thought I would just let it go."  I felt twisted inside as his words
played back, thinking of the past and the future.

It was then that I realized over the past few months I had
resisted being social with him.  But the reason had suddenly become clear to
me.  I had not been happy with Jordan.  In some ways, I was the antithesis of
who he had thought I was.  I was a very social person who enjoyed the company
of both my family and friends.  I was outgoing, energetic and typically a
planner, who had always organized group activities.  And then I met Jordan.  As
our relationship grew closer, yet my uncertainty set in, it became harder for
me to be around others.  I was easy to read, as my dear ones knew me well, and
I did not want to display my distress.  It was easier being alone with him
where I wasn't being watched, on stage or performing, so to speak.

But now he had planted a seed.  I suddenly felt that I had carte
blanche to initiate an evening with our newfound friends.  If that's what Jordan
wanted then I would go along with it, but the guilt was overwhelming, despite
it.  I thought long and hard before I replied, as I had yearned for something
that defied my thoughts inside.

I finally agreed by saying, "Believe it or not, that sounds
fun," and my heart raced at the thought of seeing Tristan again. 
"I'd actually like to get together with them," I said out loud, as I
appeased my conscience by telling myself that being in a group was harmless and
carefree.

But I knew I was fooling myself, when I remembered, suddenly, that
we still had no way of finding Tristan.  I understood immediately that seeing
him again, might really remain just a dream.

And to this day, I will never understand how Jordan dealt with the
search that ensued.  Or even why, for that matter.  He wasn't oblivious or slow
to detect.  I had to believe that he was in denial.  It would have been too
painful for him to think it all true.  He didn't believe.  It was easier not to
believe.  I wasn't sure I did, why should he?

As the investigation began, I suffered and tormented myself for
what I was putting us through.  Jordan played detective, as I watched him make
phone calls, one right after another.  I struggled with whether to let him make
the phone calls himself but I hoped that it served a purpose.  I hoped in a way
that his own initiative had made him feel that it was his idea.   But as time
passed, I no longer had an urgency to see them again.  I wanted Jordan to
believe that my discomfort stemmed from our lack of response earlier in the
van.  And that I had just been uncomfortable with our lack of hospitality and
that there had been nothing more to it than that.  Oh, how I wished that it
hadn't become so complicated.  Jordan was resourceful as he called the
Scuba
Network
, the organization that had taken us out that day.  The phone was
busy, or not working, it was incredibly hard to tell.  He was persistent as he
tried several times and finally, he got through.  The man who answered could
not speak English but managed to ask us to call the next day.

That night, in the warm tropical air, Jordan and I ate dinner by
the water.  As we sat in the breeze, I felt the pendulum swing inside of me,
this time leaning towards Jordan.  Such mixed emotions, it was so unclear.  But
it had been clear just a few hours ago.  Why weren't those signs enough for
me?  But I knew why.  Jordan was good, so honest and good, it was hard for me
to let go of him.  He was handsome and strong, smart yet sweet and gave me the
freedom to be me.  He was able to talk, really talk, about anything under the
sun.  And then there were sports.  We both loved sports.  That was important to
both of us.  And there was our love for the outdoors.  And our passion for
adventure and challenges.  And our constant need to push things to the limit,
something we had in common.  He was everything I thought I had always wanted. 
But there was still something missing.  The feeling of knowing.  Knowing and
not wondering.  Deep loving feelings that are so wonderfully clear.  But I also
knew that he was a rare person and I worried that I would never find anyone
like him.  So despite my doubts, I honestly feared, that letting him go would
be my loss.

The palm trees above rustled in the breeze.  It stirred a warmth
within me.  For a moment I reached out, I touched his face and I thought it
might all be OK.  He was so much a part of me.  My friend, my lover, my all in
one.  But then I stopped.  I forced myself to stop fooling myself.  It was time
to face the truth.  Jordan was my lifeline but he wasn't my pulse.  I knew that
said it all.  I just didn't feel it.  But as I looked at him and smiled, I understood
one of the reasons that I cared for him so deeply.  He would do almost anything
for me.  Even tonight.  He tried.  He did.  Only this time what he was doing,
was giving me Tristan.