venice_diaries

Shortly after Chana informed me that she had cheated on me, my friend Ali dropped by to chat.  I told her about what had occurred.  Her face went pale (well, paler...she's pretty white for someone with Greek heritage).  She informed me that Chana had attempted to set her up with Jason only recently, and that she was totally offended that my ex-to-be had attempted to foist off an admittedly brilliant bipolar ex-con on her in order to make her own life less complicated.  Also, she was furious regarding the cheating, as Ali is an astoundingly loyal friend.

One day I'll devote an entire entry to her.  For now, let's just say that Ali has been a constant in my life over the past several months, and is one of a very few people I trust at all times in all things.  It's a true love that has overcome an immediate mutual infatuation (not acted on) in order to settle into the most meaningful frienship I currently have.

After the actual breakup, I took off two rings that I'd been wearing to symbolize our relationship.  One was an obsidian ring that she had given me at the beginning of our adventures in Venice.  The silver one she'd bought me after we reconciled three months following her suicide attempt.  I trudged across the sand down to the ocean, and tossed the obsidian one into the waves.  For some reason, I didn't feel ready to let go of the silver ring yet.

Two days ago, Ali showed up again.  We talked for a while.  I mentioned that I needed to return a chair of Chana's to her, as it was taking up space in a rather small apartment.  As Ali still had Jason's number, and Chana has no phone, she left a message for him stating that she was contacting him solely to pass on a message to Chana that I needed the chair, and that she should come down at her earliest convenience to retrieve it to me.  Ali also mentioned that the last time she'd spoken with Jason, he'd made it sound as if he and Chana were now together.

Yesterday, Chana didn't show.  I waited in the sun all day, feeling everything coming to a head.  All of the frustration, the confusion, the feelings of betrayal simmered all day long.  I rehearsed everything that I wanted to say to her in my head, over and over again.  My mind conjured scenarios in which I yelled at her, others in which I dismissed her with a wave of the hand, and still others in which we managed to discuss things reasonably and part as friends. 

The light  changed.  The sun was setting.  Time to pack up.  I arranged my stand in the wagon, pulled it to its new hiding place, and almost unconsciously began a trek back across the sand to the roaring Pacific.  High tide.  My hand went into my pocket, touching the ring.  I pulled it out and looked at it, glinting slightly in the light of the setting sun.

"May we both be cleansed by this action," I said, the same words I'd murmured when I cast off the previous ring.  "May you return to the source of all things"  With this, I tossed it into an approaching wave, turned, and walked back to the Boardwalk.

This morning, I felt a familiar sensation, but one I haven't felt in years.  I couldn't quite define it.  I picked up my cheap thriller, and was paging through it when I sensed a presence.  Looked up.  Chana stood there, looking cold and civil.
( Cut for length and in case you're sick of this story by now. )