There is no crying in surfing

When Alan and I were married we surfed every weekend, Saturday and Sunday. As much as I shared that he was a selfish man, I know there are different times where the man I fell in love with shined through.

We went surfing in Huntington at the cliffs. His friend Hugh always met up with us. It was an ok wave day. I always surfed the soup. So I was on the inside and they were on the outside.

My goal was to get 15 waves and call it. It was pretty powerful reforms. I fell off on my 6th wave and went into the spin cycle. It would not have been bad except my leash got wrapped around my neck. Then the next wave took the board and pulled it tight. It kept coming. I was freaking out. Why those people who like asphyxia in sex enjoy it I have zero idea. I finally got to shore and was still fight with the leash and the board.

I got out and sat on the beach. I was hyperventilating and freaking out. I could see Alan and Hugh. Alan looked back and waved, I gave a pathetic wave back. He rode a wave in to see what was wrong.

I kept repeating to myself “There is no crying in surfing” trying not to cry. Well the asshole Hugh came out too. Alan was hugging me and consoling me. I told him what happened. He was like are you ok? I said I will be fine, I am going to go to the car and rest. Hugh the ass hat he is and was said to me “I have no idea how that happened to you, it never happened to me.” Listen asshole Mark Foo died at Mavs did that scenario happen to you, is what I thought in my head. I had a mark around my neck for the day.

Who would have thought a man who loved me would have retreated into his demons and it would destroy that love. I miss the Alan of the relationship in the start.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s