Lifeline

She didn’t see him reaching for the lifeline. It was a windy late spring afternoon when they headed off for the sail. The small boat’s captain said always keep one hand for yourself and one hand for the boat. In the first hour he did this pretty well. But then he started to get a lizzy dizzy and a little weak. He guessed that the coffee only breakfast to avoid heaving was not such a good idea. Couple that with an exhausting work schedule the past few weeks and he was running on fumes. In the morning he tried to talk with her but she was annoyed at something. She has every right to be annoyed, he thought. After all, he was the classic nice guy/asshole combination that she had repeatedly made the mistake of falling for. He was a guy who would suck her kind personality dry…use if for his own interests…while giving nothing of himself to her. They argued…in their quiet seething way…over where to go for dinner the night before, who wasn’t paying which bill, who was the real breadwinner. The only common ground they could find was silence. As the sail reached 90 minute mark, he started to feel giddy and stood and walked toward the front of the boat. He lifted his arms in the big “look at me mom” way, in a way he hadn’t done since he was eight. And for the first time since he was eight, he felt like a kid again. Free and without a care. It was just then that the captain swung the boat around, tossing the man into the cold dark water under the cold dark moonless sky. He bobbled up for air and saw their flashlights but they could not see him and his sunk away. The lifeline was never really within reach.