Unquenched

Unquenched by Jorie Dakelle Page A

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Authors: Jorie Dakelle
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Tristan.  The time had come.  Any future
time we could possibly share, rested on the upcoming moments together.  The
anticipation was unnerving.  Jordan had already waved everyone farewell and
motioned that he would meet me outside.  It had been hot in the bar and I knew
he was just eager to get some air.
    Tristan's probing eyes connected with mine as I approached him to
say good-bye.  They penetrated me thoroughly with such intensity that I felt as
if we were physically entwined.  I could feel the presence of the others
nearby, but at that moment, it no longer mattered.  There was not even the
remote possibility of relinquishing him again.  It just wasn't an option.  I
wouldn't allow it to be.  And then he handed me a card.  It was purple and his
name was printed on it.  It read Tristan Engler, and below it was his home
address and telephone number in Germany.  It was his personal card and the
prominent color was an unequivocal representation of who he was.  It told me
something about him.  He was unique.  Distinct.  But more than that, he represented
individuality.  He was not intimidated and did not fear demonstrating his
convictions.  It came to him naturally.  That's who he was.
    I placed his card in my wallet and began to search for mine.  I
wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.  Wasn't going to miss the
opportunity to let him know where I was.  I wanted to know in no indefinite
terms, that he could reach me too.  So I handed him my business card, as that
was all that I had, and scribbled my home number on it as well.  As I handed it
to him I felt as if I were forfeiting a part of me.  I knew that when I walked
out the door, I would feel that I was leaving a part of me in Bali.  In some
ways I knew I was.  I was leaving an experience, a passion and an unquenched
thirst that I wasn't truly confident would be sated.  I feared the unknown. 
Whatever the outcome, only one thing was certain.  And that was that nothing
was certain.  But now it was feasible that I could see him again and the
uncertainty that I would have to live with was temporary.  A sudden sense of
relief washed over me, as I realized then, that at least I would have the
choice.
    He was still seated.  I leaned over, squeezed his shoulder, and
helplessly rolled my eyes.  I smiled a weak smile then opened my mouth, but my
words just said, "Good-bye." 
    As I began to walk, he grasped my arm tightly, and said,
"I'll see you in New York, soon."
    I forced myself to walk forward and to think of Jordan who was
waiting just outside the door.  I had lingered a little longer than I had
anticipated and I hoped that Jordan hadn't felt the time. 
    "Hi," I said, having the need to say something and
immediately engage in conversation.  Jordan appeared tired and I had difficulty
interpreting his thoughts, but his response was nothing out of the ordinary.
    The cab ride back to our hotel was relatively quiet and gratefully
uneventful.  I was feeling introspective as I recycled my thoughts, of the
night and the night before.  As I glanced at Jordan, my heart went out to him
but I knew we were starting to drift.
    Our last full day on Bali had arrived.  I woke up with a heavy
head, feeling like I had consumed large quantities of alcohol.  But I knew
clearly, that the drinks I had the previous night were not the sole contributor
to the throbbing.  The next few hours were less than comfortable as Jordan and
I were both on edge.  Our interaction was minimal and what little there was,
was argumentative and combative.  But I knew that Tristan had not been the
impetus of what had become a debilitating relationship for Jordan and me.  I
was grateful for my insight which had told me at least that.  Jordan and I had
never been entirely complete as a couple.  Instinctively, I knew that our
chemistry just wasn't natural.  Meeting Tristan only confirmed my inklings and
allowed me to test my doubts.  But I knew that Jordan possessed

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