Can You Change The Course Of Fate?
Adrian was my first love; I met him when I was just 15 years old. For three years we were inseparable. Until the day he went sailing with friends and never returned.
He had asked me to join, but I declined. I didn’t want to be the only girl amongst the crowd of boisterous schoolboys, some of whom outwardly showed their disdain for me. I was just that girl; the outsider who had transported their friend into another world and who was a threat to the potential demise of their clique. I have always wondered if my presence might have made a difference on that day. Had I gone that ill-fated day, might I have changed the course of fate?
For over four decades, the haunting memory of that fateful day by Bolgoda Lake in Sri Lanka has clung to my subconscious like a relentless undertow. It was the day I lost my first love to the murky depths of the water.
Adrian was a vibrant soul, always full of life and adventure. Our love blossomed against the backdrop of our idyllic surroundings, that very same shimmering lake had always been a witness to the tenderness we shared. The promise of our future together was as boundless as the horizon stretching before us.
But that one sun-drenched afternoon, that promise unraveled. He had ventured out onto the seemingly tranquil waters in a small boat, the gentle ripples lulling him into a sense of serenity. The sky was a brilliant blue, no doubt mirroring the clarity of our love.
Then, in an instant, everything changed. He was challenged by his peers to stand up whilst stormy waters rocked the boat from side to side. He was never one to turn down a challenge, always the lad amongst lads. I was told a sudden gust of wind threw him overboard, plunging him into the unforgiving embrace of the lake’s depths. Panic set in as he struggled to surface, gasping for air, and reaching for someone to save him. And then, just like that, he was swallowed up by the water, never to resurface again.
Adrian’s body was eventually recovered, lifeless and cold, but my spirit was forever scarred.
Since that day, I’ve had this never ending nightmare…I imagine the frigid water closing in around him, and I hear his muffled cries for help, and I see the desperate thrashing of limbs as he fought for his life. In my nightmare, I watch in helpless horror as he was swallowed by the lake’s dark abyss. I always emerge from that nightmare not only drenched in sweat that appears to be a reminder of that ominous water, but also with an overwhelming sense of guilt and loss.
The nightmares of his drowning began shortly after that tragic day, like clockwork, haunting my nights and disrupting my days. I would imagine him in that ill-fated boat, struggling against the relentless currents, trying desperately to reach for me, to save him. But it was always in vain.
Over the years, these dreams have become a twisted ritual, a constant reminder of the love I lost and the survivor’s guilt I carry. They serve as a cruel reenactment of that day, keeping the memory of Adrian painfully alive in my heart.
Yet, with the passing of time, I’ve also come to realize that these dreams are a testament to the enduring power of love and loss. They are a way for me to confront my grief, to keep the memory of Adrian alive in my own way. In those dreams, I hold him once more, if only for a fleeting moment, and tell him the words left unsaid.
Forty years have come and gone, and the dreams of drowning persist. They are a bittersweet reminder of a love that will never fade, a love that, even in the depths of the darkest waters, continues to shine brightly in my heart.
He was after all, my first love.
In the garden of youth, where innocence blooms,
A tender emotion, like a sweet perfume.
First love, a flutter, a whisper, a sigh,
Beneath the vast, azure, and endless sky.
Heartbeats race, and colors are bright,
In the soft glow of love’s gentle light.
Two souls entwined, like stars above,
First love, the purest, the sweetest of.
Hand in hand, they explore the unknown,
In a world where their love has grown.
A tale of passion, so vivid and clear,
First love, a memory cherished, so dear.
Though time may pass, and seasons may change,
First love’s impression will never estrange.
In the heart’s archives, it forever stays,
A timeless bond that never decays.
I would like to end by saying, I am now happily married to a wonderful man who whilst he may not have been my first love, is most certainly my last ♥️
