His Words (bxb)

chapter twenty-nine

Saturday, 24 October, 2020

✧noah✧

And swim well he did.

I can't seem to get rid of the large grin on my face as I watch my boyfriend come in first place for his first race of the day. I clap and cheer and scream and whistle at the top of my lungs, even though I know from personal experience that you can't even hear any of it when you're racing.

Elijah has a couple of hours till his second race, so after he has cooled down and stretched, we take a couple snacks and step outside the building and into the bright sun and gentle breeze of this fine, October morning. I munch on some veggies and hummus dip as Elijah eats a banana.

I avoid conversing with my boyfriend in case I accidentally bring up the fight with Ava and Charlotte earlier this week or my text conversation with my mom this morning or my difficulty eating breakfast. Instead, I lay my head gently on his shoulder as he plays with my hair, occasionally commenting on how long it's getting, how soft it is, and how pretty the colour is in the sun. When Elijah gets a text from Coach telling him his event is being called next, we throw our garbage away and head inside.

When it comes time for Elijah's to race the 50m freestyle, the stand gets quieter than usual during marshalling and noticeably louder when the swimmers dive. This is the race Elijah is hoping to qualify for nationals in. Our stand erupts in cheers when Elijah breaks the surface of the water, already about half a body in front of second place. I hear Coach Mike join in on the cheers, his eyes following Elijah's figure in the water, then glancing up anxiously at the scoreboard to monitor his time.

By halfway, the swimmer in the lane next to Elijah starts catching up and we hear the club seated next to us get louder and louder with their cheering. I'm not worried, though - I know that Elijah swims his best once he hits the halfway mark, something about it seeming to provide him with that extra push. This shift comes through very clearly in his swimming and we see Elijah take off once he passes the red line on the bottom of the pool that marks twenty-five metres. I glance up at the scoreboard and immediately know that he has qualified for nationals this summer.

Elijah hits the wall and almost immediately takes his goggles off to get a better look at his time on the scoreboard. I see his eyes widen suddenly, knowing that he just qualified for junior nationals.

24.13 seconds. The qualifying time is 24.56 seconds.

I watch my boyfriend's reaction closely as he turns to Coach with a huge smile on his face, then turns to where he knows his mom is in the stands opposite to the swimmers. I even see Elijah sneak a quick glance at the area in which all the college scouts are seated with their clipboards and baseball caps. Not once does he look at me.

I don't want to be petty about this, but I'm feeling particularly vulnerable and unstable this week. I always thought that I was of importance to Elijah. That after a big moment like this one, I would be one of the people he wants to see the large, proud smile of. Apparently not. Elijah's race is over and with it dies the excitement I was feeling as they call the next event, my mind retreating back to its previous, numb state.

As I wait anxiously for Elijah's return, my mind wanders to the college scouts that were closely observing Elijah, clearly interested in his talent. I think of my boyfriend's bright future, swimming for some of Canada's top colleges. Calgary, Toronto, BC, McGill... he could go wherever he wanted. And eventually he will. Go. And I'll either be left behind or force Elijah to drag a heavy burden behind him through college. I can't do that to him. That isn't fair to him.

I feel like I'm living my life in slow motion, watching everyone grow and move on and do brilliant things with their lives while I'm stuck back here, begging the world to slow down for me. That isn't fair to them, though. I need to either speed up or accept getting left behind. Elijah will inevitably leave me behind someday and I don't blame him. I can't force him to move at my speed and I can't move at his.