When One Door Closes

It’s my second night in the lodge. There are more people this time. But there is no message from her. A nearby table has several attractive women but the conversation is moronic. “We were meant to be but he wasn’t ready,” one girl says while imitating a sob, “I’m, like, really heartbroken here.” I look a the clock and decide I can’t listen much more. I stand, zip my jacket, and walk outside into the brisk night.

It’s cold but the wind has eased, making it feel warmer than the day. It’s dark but the full moon’s glare lights a path. I decide to take all the twists and turns that look promising. Promising a new story or an interesting perspective. I’ve walked these spaces before but never with such a sinking feeling. For a moment, everything in my life felt at peace then it was shattered into a million jagged pieces.

I return to the lodge in hopes of socialization. I notice the South African woman I met at the baths yesterday. At least I think it’s her, because she’s wearing clothes now when she previously was not. She’s sitting at a bench with a large woven basket on a table. “That bag looks big enough for Mary Poppins.” She looks up and appears to recognize me. We talk for a short while before she announces the need for rest, then heads back to her room. There’s a moment when I think I should do the same, but I see someone else through the lodge window. It’s the assistant teacher from my yoga workshop. She’s pulling on the wrought-iron door handle. I walk up and say hello.

“What are you up to?” I say.

“I was at the baths.” She says.

“Oh, cool. I felt the need to walk from overeating at dinner.”

“Then walk me home.”

We walk through the garden in the night. Strangers. I forget what was bothering me. We walk down a hill and across a footbridge. I start feeling that I may be connecting with her beyond the classroom. My yoga teacher, albeit an assistant, is interested in me. Several thoughts come up like how did this happen and I must be lucky. I hug her goodnight and admire the full moon. When one door closes, another opens.

I glance at the path back to the lodge and turn in the opposite direction. I walk deeper into the night wondering what more twists and turns will come up.