The Ocean
Life never failed to surprise me. Forever patiently—yet not always so gently—it kept reminding me that making plans isn’t the same as knowing your future.
This is the story of Dorian and me: capricious and strange, but wonderful in its perseverance. Where to start with it at all?
Officially we met twice. But there was something so familiar in him I felt like I’ve always known him. It might have been the way he walked, the rhythm of his steps, and how he’d move the body that made Dorian somehow known to me the moment I set my eyes on him. As operatic as this may sound, it reminded me of the sea in the dawn: peaceful, but you know the rich dark depths could still take lives.
The first time we met, I was in my early twenties, and I’d recently started working for a marketing company on an internship. It was situated on the third floor of a tall, older building on the north side of the city, and my job was every bit as frantic as my age. I was running around the offices, bringing coffee and filling printers with paper and ink.
Dorian’s company was in the same building but a few floors above mine, so I would stumble upon him in the corridors from time to time. At first, we’d just silently pass by each other as strangers should, but eventually occasional hi’s and curious reserved smiles were shared between us. I noticed he was a bit older than me, thinking it couldn’t be more than five or six years. I immediately liked how tall he was and how he radiated this uncommon sense of peace. His handsomeness never allowed me to consider it odd that he had caught my attention, and I never pondered about the time I spent daydreaming about him. It seemed like a typical crush.
Perhaps the most intimate encounter from that period happened when we stumbled upon each other at the elevator on a cloudy Wednesday morning of September. Alone in that tight space, he was holding a few cups of coffee in his hands, and I walked in with two boxes full of black and white brochures, much heavier than the size suggested.
“Hi,” he said and smiled at me.
I returned the greeting while struggling to free my hand and press the button to my floor. As the door rumbled closed, I suddenly felt the pressure of awkward silence the elevator noise couldn’t cover. It was as if the energy of the body standing a few inches away from mine had taken on a tangible form and was touching me with its invisible limbs. I could feel goosebumps appearing on my skin—a sensation that was, luckily, hidden by clothes.
“Tough day ahead of you?” I said and signaled all the cups with my eyebrows, and my humorous attempt brightened him even more.
“No, it just happened to be my turn to bring the coffee in today,” Dorian explained cheerfully. “We have this circular system. Whenever it’s my turn, I can’t believe how much caffeine is needed for the office to function properly.”
I shuddered after he moved his head even closer a second later as if he was sharing a secret with me.
“I’d send a personal thank you card to whoever invented the coffee machine,” he said with a smile covering his face and lighting up his warm brown eyes. I unintentionally revealed all my fantasies by looking at him for a second or two too long, completely wonderstruck. Still, the doors opened, and the chatter of other people brought me back to reality.
“Well, I’m the deliverer every day, so if you need some advice from the expert, feel free to reach out,” I said and wished him a nice day as I was leaving the elevator.
“Have a nice day, too. See you around,” he answered.
Very soon, I was offered a job in a different company, and I left without ever finding out his name. That encounter was never forgotten, but time worked hard to make it irrelevant, further encouraged by memories that seemed more realistic.
***
About four years later, I was starting my own company. I’d been working as a freelancer in digital marketing for some time and decided it was time to take it seriously, so I searched for an office space.
The northern building where I had done my internship almost instantly popped into my head, but I thought it was too big for what I needed, too corporate. However, I was further persuaded to reconsider as the first three results of my online office search were, in fact, from there, and one of the offices seemed like a perfect fit. It wasn’t too big at all, but with enough room to hire some employees in the foreseeable future and expand my business. The price was reasonable, so I decided to check the place in person.
I chose to take the stairs to the second floor and a bit later to take office, completely unaware as I walked in how many secrets these walls would keep for me. As I was signing the lease agreement, I asked the landlord about the old company where I once worked. They had moved, and somehow I felt relieved of not knowing anyone—not having to go and greet my old colleagues who I’d never stayed in touch with, and, honestly, who I was never particularly fond of. I liked the feeling of starting fresh.
And I did. I started on a chilly Monday morning of February 1st.
It could have been two or three days after I rented the office when I saw Dorian from a distance. It wasn’t anything spectacular. My heart didn’t start pounding as it would many times later, my face capillaries had nothing to unravel as they often would in the future, and I didn’t feel the need to hide my face out of embarrassment. Nothing of that. Only a casual thought flashed through my head when I set my eyes on Dorian, “Oh, I’d almost forgotten about you,” followed by another one which brought a smile to my face, “Still handsome.”
There was again this familiarity in him I still couldn’t put into words, but it was there and went beyond the few sentences that we had previously exchanged.
Later that day, as I was furnishing my office, I bumped into him in front of the building.
“Still carrying the boxes, hey?” He said with a giant smile, and I was glad to realize he remembered me. The trembling that flew through my body caught me off guard, but if you’ve ever felt it, you’ll know it’s never unpleasant.
“You can’t fight against your talents. Still carrying the coffee?” I accepted his foolish game.
Dorian just nodded merrily to my question and turned the conversation in the direction more interesting to him, “Who are you working for, these days?”
“Myself. I started my own marketing company not long ago and needed an office. So, here it is, the office,” I looked up at the building.
“Good for you. Which floor? I mean, for my coffee delivery days, I’m thinking of expanding my service to other floors,” he continued to tease me with a light laugh.
“Second. Do I qualify for your service?”
“I believe you do.”
“Good! I like a macchiato.”
“I’ll remember that.”
Happiness must have been inscribed on my giggly face, and I felt my cheeks catching some color when I said to be seeing him later. But he went a few steps with me and asked:
“Can I know your name? For delivery purposes.”
“Elinor. And you are?”
“I’m Dorian. Nice to finally meet you, Elinor.”
“You too,” I said and glimpsed at his smiling lips.
“When can I expect my delivery?” I asked hoping not to be crossing the line with my flirting.
“We’ll see, I gotta check my calendar first,” he winked and stopped, allowing me to walk away from him.
That’s how we met the second time.
I was quite smitten by Dorian’s flirtatious teasing and handsome presence. I often caught myself looking at my office door in anticipation of the coffee scent and equally often scolded myself for acting so silly. At times I was almost angry for foolishly allowing so much of my energy to drift into something other than my freshly started business. But mostly, my scolding was just repression of embarrassment over my feelings which were growing as if I were fifteen and not twenty-five. While the tension between my mind and heart kept increasing day after day, the coffee arrived at last.
“Macchiato, as you ordered ma’am!”
The room was instantly filled with the aroma of exotic coffee mixed with Dorian’s cologne, whose delightful scent crawled so sweetly to my nose. On some other level, this space wasn’t ample anymore for the rapid upsurge of my emotions, especially after I began to detect more clearly and successfully the fondness was mutual. As he was walking closer to my desk, I shyly let him read my thoughts from my wide grin while I could read a lot from his, too.
“Am I disturbing you?”
“No, no, not at all! Come on in.”
“This place looks great. You did a good job.” He either lied or had poor taste because there was nothing in my office but a table, chairs, an empty bookshelf, a plant, and me. He sat opposite and handed me the coffee.
“Thank you, but there’s still so much to do. Hopefully, by the end of the month I’ll be done with it,” I answered.
“To that, cheers.” Dorian raised his cup and made a toast in which I gladly joined him.
“So, what do you do when you’re not marketing or decorating?”
“You mean like my hobbies? Are you prepared to meet the most tedious woman of the modern age?”
“Bring it on.” He took another sip of coffee and quietly smacked his lips.
I, on the other hand, had to pause to think. I suddenly felt insecure about my lack of interest in amusing things that could make me look insignificant in the eyes of one person I certainly didn’t want to leave with such an impression. I wanted to lie and wondered: when you truly like someone, was it allowed to pretend at least for a while you’re just a bit better?
“You’ve cornered me. I seem to be so dull that I don’t even have a hobby to talk about. Can watching Bob Ross paint on YouTube count as one?”
“Sure it can!”
“So there it is, virtual painting! What do you do when you’re not bringing coffee?” I could see the sparks glittering around us, neither of us could keep a straight face.
“I…” He paused to think as he picked up one of my pens from the table and started playing with it. I followed his moves and found a reward for my eyes. Ordinary things looked so special on him, and every proof of his physical existence seemed breathtakingly unique. His hand interspersed with tiny veins reminded me of some rare semi-precious stone, and his arm sprinkled with thin dark hairs of a gentle touch of summer grass you wish to slightly brush with the tip of your fingers. I felt the urge to do so, but his voice called my eyes back up.
“I like to ride a bike in the countryside. I enjoy listening to classic rock with my dog in the evenings. And of course, Bob Ross videos!”
“There you go, our first thing in common!”
“There you go,” he joined me in my laughter for a brief second but soon stopped and looked at me strangely as if something unpleasant suddenly crossed his mind. The same thought must have hurried him up, he put the pen back on the table and stood up.
“Well, enjoy your coffee.”
“How much do I owe you for your service, Dorian?”
“This one’s on the house!”
“Thank you very much. The next one’s on me then.”
His face kept all the oddity of the previous moment, and he barely said goodbye before turning and leaving. I didn’t worry about his sudden mood change, not as much as I should have anyway. I was almost grateful he left so I could process our shared moments, read into them and find all the evidence of the exciting future that awaited me.
I hit the replay button and allowed myself to swim in the ocean of countless possibilities this new interesting person could bring into my life. It didn’t occur to me that a human being can not swim across the ocean and that eventually, I might drown. This ocean, like all of them do, sooner or later would show all the strength of its turbulent waters and pull the swimmer to its floor.
To read the entire novel, purchase Twin Flames on Amazon.
Copyright © 2022 Ana Iris
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