Scene 11

I often wonder if anyone knows what true love feels like. Is it an idea, a feeling, a place, or even a certain type of person? What makes someone fall in love? In my experience, I have noticed "true love" for me is brain chemistry. It's the emotional level of understanding who someone is. When I have felt love the strongest, it was always with people who wanted to understand how to love me. Someone who possessed the willingness because they truly wanted to and in turn I truly loved them.

Sometime ago I had a fiancé. He was my settler and the contentment I felt when I was with him, was too comforting to pass up because I had nothing. What derived from of my weakest point in life I completely thought was real. Especially since I had someone painting the illusion they unconditionally loved me. It wasn't until he said, "Don't expect anyone to be honest with you; we are all liars," was when it all clicked for me. I didn't want to be made a fool even though I had already felt like one. I was sitting on a staircase, sailing from Baltimore to Boston, when the final words in a text signified we were all over-- I felt nothing as if a switch turned off within me.

I had victoriously accepted a job working on a cruise ship as a fine-dining steward because I wanted to lift up my partner and his dreams and desires. Selflessly living for someone else, however, was exhausting and a part of me knew that. Not only was this an opportunity to get away as much as it was to help, my soul tugged me there because it knew what I hadn't heard yet. I was subconsciously drowning my feelings for the man spooning behind me because he wasn't feeding me anything emotionally. After training everyone was assigned a boat and we only had 40 hours to pack and be on our planes. A few flights and a bus ride to the shores of Cambridge Massachusetts later, I stepped into the next year of my life. I was not prepared.

My heart pounding and the excitement taking ahold of every nerve, I walked onto a cruise ship. With my sun glasses on and my combat boots falling apart I fell in line with our Hotel Manager, showing us to our Crew Cabins. I shut the door and me and my bunk mate started socializing. The slow gentle rock of the ship being on the water made me feel more than at home and the refreshing psychotic energy she gave off, any doubt I was feeling previously was melted away. "Nice to meet you" and with that, me and my new friend walked together.

"You're on salt and pepper." My manager said, pointing. Following the gesture I looked over and there I saw him. A familiarity came over me as I vaguely scanned his face. I started to walk over right as the surface beneath my feet started moving; the sound of clanking chains scraping against the sands underwater was a new one for me, I sat down with haste. His small laughter filled my ears and I looked back at him, processing his features: He was short, blonde, and after he introduced himself, I was instantly infatuated with this Irish guy. I peaked into his eyes and I understood what Taylor Swift's definition of blue was; the kind that ever change with the tides, so blue, so dense--that was him.

"My name is Ali."

"Ah, Ali. Welcome to Satan's asshole."

I chuckled and started to fill the table shakers with salt and pepper. We hardly spoke though communicated very well. I had the sense he was a no nonsense, hard working, frat boy. And the faster we started to fill the containers, the more I knew it was on. Wanting to impress him through my very same mentalities, I paid him no mind except to insert a witty comment now and again. Topping off the last pepper shaker, not ever sneezing once, I will never forget the irony as I ran to the back all because the pepper corns did in-fact, get to me.

We started out as typical friends. But the more I saw, the more he did just for me. He made me forget everything that was waiting for me and opened my eyes to how someone you care about should be treated. Through the heavy metal Irish love songs he sang for me, the dancing on Top Deck as the wind, light, and the rain grazed our faces I couldn't remember the last time I had so much fun with one person. Our shared cigarettes when one of us would run out was my new favorite kind of quality time, but only with him.

The more I got to know That Irish Guy, the more it became clear I was doing the companionship thing all wrong. He challenged me on everything and broke my way of thinking down only to help me rebuilt it with only my best intentions. The job itself was fun, however, I don't think I would have made it as long if he hadn't been there. The environment and working conditions was abysmal-- crying in the walk in freezer became a tradition from humor and the amount of stress and anger bouts you've ever experienced before, suddenly did not compare. However, we somehow found comfort in each others presence in this beautiful place of misery. He yanked my arm in the direction I was stalling for myself and the amount of amazing things we did together made me feel so anew, so free and alive.

While we were on work break on the docks of Martha's Vineyard, we walked around, exploring what this little island had to offer. He held my hand for the first time and the butterflies took off of what only I can describe as middle school love. We found a small gazebo with a little bit of a water shore. I smelled the fresh sea air and couldn't help but take off. Kicking off my shoes and the wind blowing past my ears, I looked back to see if he was following and time stopped; his smile while leaning against the pillar was something out of a movie. Pure joy and amazement in one daring look, I giggled and laughed back.

"Come on!"

The push, the pull, the feeling of complete fearlessness; the chills, the means, the soft touch followed by a tough clench--he caught me off guard.

He lifted me up in every way and as we layed on the hard shells of the unique shore we found just the two of us, he leaned in and kissed me. I got caught up in the magic we were creating together and I'll never forget that night we were at sea, sailing. We had shared some substances and a great chef's meal. I sat, trying to light my cigarette against the wind while he stood and gave me a homie dome. On the inhale of the sweet tobacco he grabbed my face; not in a way of domination, in the way of something more seriously gentle. He looked into my eyes and I could hardly blink. Whatever words were shared from me before this moment, I only vaguely remembered.

He chuckled and said, "I see you."

He dropped his hand and stood back, grabbing my lighter and getting his off with ease. I stared back with a slow smirk as the gears turned in my head, over and over. I knew what he was referring to, and it was something no one has ever cared to put together. I looked around, silent. Under the moon shining bright coming through the dim yellow ambiance, the colors bounced off his white T-shirt, creating a natural hue to his figure; sturdy and broad with crazy in the blue. I responded, "Oh yeah? What has been discovered?" I exhaled.

That moment coming back to me as his soft lips met mine, I grabbed his face allowing the passion to sneak into the moment. I wanted him, I wanted everything he offered. The day dreams we would come up with and the future of hope and happiness we were longing for each other with each other, it was everything I wanted out of life. Not only did he teach me to question everything from a critical thinking point of view, he also reminded me to stand proud in whatever conviction I wanted.

I often wondered what true love left like and where you found that kind of love, and I think I found my answer the moment I met That Irish Guy. Not only through his character and generosity, I realized he is the only man I can trust riding a slow motorcycle through the wonderful narrow streets of Martha's Vineyard, I knew he was only man I would ever want to talk for 11 days straight with in an awful accent just to win a bet (I totally won by the way), and he will only ever be the only man I would sit across from at a random Irish bar in the middle of Boston, singing "Rose Tattoo."

I'm not speaking in terms of black and white, I'm saying if you meet someone who wants to learn how to love you and respect you, and above all, wants to see you succeed and be happy regardless if it was with him, hold on for as long as you can and recognize your worth. Remember the feeling and don't trade in your values for the sliver of comfort all because your life was harder in the moment. Life is fucking hard. Surround yourself with unconditional love no matter what kind of relationship it is coming from. In my experience, monogamous relationships isn't where that kind of love lives most of the time anyway.

Bositos.