Humans logo

Ships at a Distance

By Deirdre AnnaPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
Like

How do you write a love story when you’re sitting on the couch at your parent’s house watching a Pixar film at 10:23 p.m. on a Saturday that happens to be the birthday of the last guy you really cared about? And really wishing he knew you’d remembered.

You don’t.

You don’t write it. You don’t reach out. You don’t imagine.

“Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board…” I once painted that phrase on a rock, carefully selected from the beach by the lighthouse, after reading Zora Neale Hurston’s Their Eyes Were Watching God. This phrase that opened her novel enchanted me, and it’d dwelt in my mind for a couple years before I’d taken up the practice of painting rocks and decided I needed one with this quote on it.

The thing was, I’d never considered the quote in the context of the book until now.

Now I get it.

I’ve always been a romantic. Was, I suppose. So this vision of a ship on the line between sea and sky with the promise of my dream as its approaching cargo seemed to fit well with my view of the world. I thought maybe someday, maybe someday it’ll come to me.

Maybe the boy, the love, the life – all of it.

So when One asked me to prom and then to be his girlfriend, I thought maybe.

When Two asked for my number after shooting a straight shot on the course I was working at for the summer as the beer cart girl, I thought maybe.

When Three said I was his unicorn and we talked about his parents and his past on a long drive in the rain, I thought maybe.

When Four asked me to come for a run, to come over for the night, I thought maybe.

When Two resurfaced from the blue and we became something. Something together. I really thought maybe.

And when Two and I broke, and when Five came around, I thought maybe this time. Because I’d already been through maybe and maybe had failed but left room for another.

But there’s another side to Hurston’s ship quote.

Here’s the whole thing:

“Ships at a distance have every man’s wish on board. For some they come in with the tide. For others they sail forever on the horizon, never out of sight, never landing until the Watcher turns his eyes away in resignation, his dreams mocked to death by Time. That is the life of men.”

I don’t think my ships have ever come in.

One was abusive.

Two was nice but unimpressive the first time I dated him.

Three left me because he wanted to party the rest of his senior year.

Four used me. He was living multiple lives with multiple women.

Two was never for me. I realized it four years late.

Five just didn’t love me. If he did, he would’ve at least explained himself. Given me a reason for the sudden emptiness in my life.

I don’t know all these things because they told me. My heart told me. Sometimes I wish my heart was lying. About what I feel, or about what I think. Anything would do. Just, please: lie to me.

I guess it does in the beginning when it lets me believe that hope has finally given me something real, something that looks a lot like love that’ll stay this time.

I’ve always been gullible.

They were ships at a distance, and I held them at a distance. I still do.

I think I always did. I think that’s why they flitted off like stones skipped across the ocean surface: only a tap tap on the water and gone into a wave.

The words on my rock are a little faded now, as if they’ve been through waves, a storm, or just reality.

love
Like

About the Creator

Deirdre Anna

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.