4. In the offing

I toss and turn in my sleeping bag. I don’t want to be back in the tent at all. I want to have shown Tim that I disappear when I time travel, I want to have proven to Tim that time travel is really possible. We've barely talked since the failed attempt. Tim didn't immediately want me to try again, he thought I should relax. But how can I do nothing if I can't wait? There's no point in staying here, I can't sleep even if it's the middle of the night. I wriggle out of my sleeping bag and put on some clothes. I leave a note so Tim knows I'm returning to the boat.

The hike to the lake is difficult. It's actually too dark to walk through the woods, and the thin light from my flashlight can't keep me from tripping over tree stumps. Now that the sun has not yet made an appearance, it is icy cold. My warm winter coat can't stop the cold from sinking deep into my bones. I'm too stubborn, I should have waited until tomorrow.

But when I finally arrive at the boat, all the discomfort falls away. I don't understand why I remain so confident that this will work. I just know I'm going to be able to make a change in history with Tim showing that time travel is real. I sit down on the ice-covered bench. It helps that my ass already feels frozen and numb. I click out my flashlight and I am absorbed into the complete darkness around me. No time to lose, I don't think my body can stand sitting this much longer. Almost routinely, I let images come of the day I met Tim. Everything goes as before, until the rainbow colours take me where I want to go. I step into my old life as if it is now.

The Past

"Alex!" Susan yells my name as she sprints towards me on her heels.

“I get to audition as lead singer for a band!” she shouts happily. Then she dives into my arms, expecting to be kissed. I'm happy for her. Proud that my girlfriend gets such a great opportunity. I give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

She lets go of me and looks at me questioningly, "why won't you kiss me like you used to? Before, you couldn't keep your hands off me and you kissed me passionately.". I've tried to explain to her so many times that it has nothing to do with her. I just feel tired and stressed. I don't feel the need for physical contact. Her phone rings and she answers quickly, distracting her from our conversation. Good, because I don’t feel like repeating the same discussion again. It will work itself out.

I still find her very attractive with her long blond hair and bright blue eyes. All men think she's hot, and all my friends are jealous that she only has eyes for me. I see them watching as she strolls down the street with her signature wiggle. She likes the attention and doesn't shy away from flirting with others. But I'm the one who goes home with her after a night out, to whom she whispers exciting words in my ear and tells me with her soft sultry lips how much she loves me.

We've been together for five years. I didn’t even fall for her gorgeous looks, but her brilliant mind. When she is convinced of something, she can win over anyone with strong arguments. She's a walking encyclopaedia and you shouldn't play against her when it comes to knowledge questions. But mostly I like the evenings where we can philosophize endlessly about the most diverse subjects. I guess she is also my best friend.

“Why are you staring like that? A penny for your thoughts,” Susan says as she takes my hand, “Come on, we have to get ready, the audition is soon.” By preparing she means that she stands in front of the mirror for hours to test clothing combinations and then the same amount of time is needed to put on all her make-up. I smell under my armpit. My shirt still smells fresh enough for a night out. But when she shows her final choice, she demands that I change into something else. Sigh, women ... Fortunately I still have an old shirt hanging over my chair that has been airing nicely for a few days. But I have to admit, she does look dazzling after all the work.

The audition is held in a cafe with a small stage. As if Susan has known this world for years, she walks backstage to warm up her voice. I plop down on a stool at the bar and order a beer. The bartender continues to glare at me after he sets my glass down in front of me. Then his eyes go down and up again, scanning my body. I feel uncomfortable in my maybe a little too tight shirt with a low v-neck. He gives me a wink. What's wrong with that man? I turn around and ignore him.

The first members of the band appear. The drummer sets up his drum kit and the guitarists tune their guitars. They are a lot rougher than I expected. I only know the sweet songs my girlfriend loves to sing, and I can't imagine that these tough guys are crazy about that. The bass player is a tall brown-haired man with a tattoo on his arm. Tall, dark and handsome Susan would say. I know he would be just her type, though funnily enough, he's the opposite of who I am. He drops his plectrum and picks it up rather clumsily. I have to laugh softly when he just looks up. He answers with a smiling shrug.

Susan appears on the stage. She no longer has the neat jacket she had put on over her clothes. Her hair, which she had styled so carefully, is messed up. I think she also realized she didn't really fit in with the rugged image. And when she starts singing, I realize that she already knew that the style of the band is different from what she's used to. With a deep voice she fits perfectly with the shrill sound of the guitars. The bass takes her further into the depths until the rhythm of the drums challenges her to go higher and higher up-tempo.

To no surprise, the band chose her from the few girls invited. She's talking to her new band members when I walk up to her afterwards. She hooks her arm into mine and introduces me. She then becomes completely absorbed in a conversation with one of the guitarists. She also tries to learn to play the guitar herself with little success. The bassist, I now know his name is Tim, comes and stands next to me.

“Do you play an instrument yourself?” he asks. Most people don't expect me to play the violin, but Tim seems to find it almost logical.

“Yes, I can see you playing that, probably for a long time?”

I look at him startled, “Yes, how did you know?” Tim tells a fascinating story about how he can tell by people's hands what kind of instrument someone plays. To show me, he takes my hand in his and shows me my calluses. I feel a little strange standing hand in hand with another man. I quickly let go of him when he's finished talking. But the conversation the rest of the evening with Tim is so pleasant that we decide to exchange phone numbers. He would like to see my violin, and I would love to come along to his favourite music store.

"Sooo ..." Susan giggles when we get home, "You made a date with Tim."

"No of course not," I growl back.

"Then show me how you only desire me." Her words turn into a sultry movement in which she takes off her clothes. I feel sad. Such a sexy woman and all I want is to sleep. When she sees my look, she sighs deeply and rolls away disappointed.

The Here and Now

That's when the rainbow colours take me back to the boat bench by the lake. The cold hits me, who would sit on a frozen bench?! I want to go back to the past because I haven't been able to do anything I planned. It's so much harder than I thought to change something in the past. Because when I go back in time, I become my past-self, I hardly realize who I am in the future anymore. I also did not expect that I would be so taken over by thoughts and feelings from the past when I am there. Maybe it went wrong because the focus was too much on Susan. I need to focus on an emotional moment with Tim. I have to prove to him that it is real. Before I freeze further on the bench, I let new images come, and I am again taken by the rainbow light.

The Past

I sit on the couch playing with my phone, waiting for a text from Tim. I feel concerned about my relationship with Susan. It does our relationship no good that there is little intimacy all this time. And worse, I'm noticing more and more how difficult it is to talk to her about it. She takes it so personally and makes such a drama out of it. Tim does understand. In one of our many text messages we came upon that topic by accident. It feels nice to be able to vent to someone who really listens and doesn't judge as she does. And so I notice that I increasingly prefer talking to Tim on my phone than paying attention to Susan's chatter about her daily affairs.

“Alex, are you listening?” When I look up from my phone I see Susan angrily glancing at me.

“Yeah, yeah, sure …” I'm still trying to convince her, but unfortunately I fail to repeat what she was talking about. As punishment I get a pillow thrown at my head. It makes me laugh, she's always full of craziness. I love that about her. She laughs along. It is confusing how sometimes there can be so much distance between us, but then suddenly so much that is familiar and connects us.

Susan kisses me good night and I decide to stay on the couch for a little longer. Maybe Tim will still text me. More and more I realize that Tim means more to me than just a good friend. When I talk to him, I have feelings for him that I never thought I could have for a man. I feel confused. I'm straight, I can't feel this. And of course I can't talk to Susan about this. I feel so torn between my love for her but also these crazy new feelings that I don't understand. I have to get it clear for myself before I can tell her about it.

Then I finally see that Tim is online. Before he can text me, I have already written my message.

“Can I ask you a personal question, Tim? Could you find out later in life that you are bisexual?” I hit send quickly before I regret my candour. I get more and more nervous when I see Tim write a message for so long before sending it. I need to talk to someone about my feelings, but I hope it doesn't scare Tim away from me. I'm starting to regret sending it. I should have kept it to myself. Maybe if I stop worrying so much about it, the feelings will go away on their own. But then comes the text from Tim. Trembling, I open it to read it.

“Yes, of course. I think more people find out later in life. I myself went through a period in college when I wasn't sure whether I liked men or women. Eventually, by experimenting I found out that I am not sexually attracted to guys.” I keep staring at his message. A whirlwind of feelings run through me. He understands me! He's had the same! But he can't feel the same for me ... I get a lump in my throat. He is straight and will never feel the same for me. I am startled by the intensity of my disappointment. I push the bad feelings to the background and let my curiosity take over.

“How did you experiment?” I text him back. He sends back some funny emoji’s. But then I see that he is taking longer to type the next text.

He answers, “A friend from that time was gay and we liked to give each other dares. So one time he dared me to kiss him. I actually found it very interesting to kiss a man. The roughness of his kiss as his stubble tickled against me did something to me. We kept giving each other dares and went on like this until we finally had sex with each other.” I have to let his message sink in. I feel aroused by the idea of two men getting on like this. And then again the disappointment, oh how I would have loved to be the one to experiment with him.

The Here and Now

I shoot back through the rainbow light to the boat. I didn't know that intense emotions could also bring me back. I feel exactly as I did then. So confused about my sexual orientation and having such strong feelings for Tim. Can I handle this? I suddenly feel a fear of what time travel can do to me. And I doubt if I'm strong enough.