I stand on the edge of the pier. Cracked cement and grey chewed gum under my sandals. The sun shines down, sprinkling the water with white light that dances upon the dark waves. I hear the sounds of children laughing behind me. I know there is a wedding reception just a few metres down the pier, I am standing beside D. But, right in this moment I am alone. Alone on the edge of a cement pier, in the shadow of the lighthouse, in the sun of the sky. The sun only shines on me, in this moment, and I glow amidst the dark crashing waves. I look out at the horizon and long for the other side of the lake, that I cannot see. It may not exist.Suddenly I hear my name. D. was talking this whole time about existentialism. His voice floods my ears and collides with the waves in my head. I am back with him and I am no longer alone. I look into the opaque water as D. dares me to jump in. If he knew how quickly I would take up the offer on a simple condition: don’t jump in after me when I sink below the surface. We walk back up to the shore. We see a bride smiling and struggling to balance in her high heels on the rocky shore as her picture is taken, white girl forever immortalized on thin black squares of film. I am too hot now. I long for the cool breeze from the lake and the comforts it whispers to me in its secret airy voice. The sun warms my hair and I smell the soft scent of my shampoo. My skin is glowing and I worry about the premature wrinkles I will get as I squint my eyes. A moment of peace. I feel that I will go to the pier every day, even if I am alone. It will be better if I am alone. To stand out amidst the lake, surrounded on three sides by water, only left with a thin boardwalk of concrete and wood stretched out behind me, an unstable bridge back to the shore, waves crashing against its mildewed side. I feel like I could swim forever, and if I got tired, I would fall to the bottom, just to rest for a little while.
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