It took you about fifteen minutes to park, I kept busy by writing in my notebook, trying to get all my ideas down on paper so I wouldn’t forget later; because let’s admit it, I always forget come later.
You ease yourself into a parking spot that anyone else would have had trouble with.
We climb out of the car and are welcomed by the ninety-seven degree heat. We embark on our journey just down the road until we hit sand. Immediately, we are greeted with the scent of sunblock and the view of the sun glistening over the ocean ripples.
“Look at the waves,” you awed. They came up in the distance only to break, crashing down just before the shore. I ran off ahead. My right foot stepped into water first. It was chilly, then warm. Each step took me deeper and deeper as the water slapped against me. Then, when I was in shoulders deep, I turned to watch you run through the sand and into the ocean. A big smile on your face as your thick, dark brown hair caught in the wind making you look a joyous and oblivious as a little kid.
A big wave came curling up from behind me. I jumped, with my arms out before me, and rode it into shore to meet up with you. You take me in your strong arms, pulling me against your bare chest, and with my legs wrapped around your waist, you carry me out deeper. Small waves come and go and we hop to float over them, watching them roll to shore.
I’m happy here. In the warm water, under the hot southern sun, with you. It feels like home.
A big wave comes and you throw me over. For a brief second, I’m free-falling, then I hit and sink and laugh. Another one comes and I let it carry me away.
You chose to be defiant. Stand your ground. The waves crash into you and you never falter. Your hazel eyes are locked onto me, squinting in the sunlight. Your pink lips are tight, determined. Your hair is so dark from being wet that it almost looks black and it’s all disheveled from the ocean water beating against you. And the best part about it is, you don’t even know how sexy you look just then.
But I do.
And being here with you, in this new place, it feels like home.
To soar on a paper air plane… As I folded up the pain white paper I wondered what it would be like. If I were small enough to sit right on the edge as it took flight, catching in the wind. How my scarf might dance behind me as the brisk air brushed against my cheeks. Weaving in and out between branches. Up and down. Catching the wind just right so I was flying high with the birds. Up, up, and up! Pinching the folded paper plane between my two fingers, I launched it into the forest and watched it disappear into the trees; imagining it was me.