Saturday, 22 June 2013
Moments of passion, of shared love, is this what I live for? The few highest peaks in my life, where I was overcome, yet unafraid, of how much I loved. I recall one moment clearly. I was young, some might say beautiful, wild still, and at the beach sun bathing in my delicious white bikini that had delicate green and purple flowers printed on it. The sort of bathing suit you can really only wear at fifteen. Hot the day was, as the Australian summer days can be, but soothing, life giving. My eyes were closed and I thought of the beautiful boy who I'd come to this particular beach with, in his old crappy tan car, who was out swimming in the sea, currently out of my reach, but not out of my mind. We were in love, he was my first lover, and we had progressed from the awkwardness of those first times, to sweet sexual encounters. Or so I recall, from this distant point many years later. My sun went away, so I opened my eyes and there he was standing at my feet, covered in the wetness of the sea, salty droplets covering his deeply bronzed skin, brown eyes just shining with life, awakened by his time in the ocean. I'd not seen anything more beautiful. Suddenly I was covered with his tall slim, tennis players body, this dripping boy, and he shook his wet hair on my arms and chest and upon my belly, so deliciously cold it felt to my sun warmed skin, then he kissed me with his salt laden lips, the temperatures of our skins rising and falling to meet in the middle, and I felt myself sink further into the sand as his body pressed more heavily into mine. Overwhelmed by sensation, and the spectacular beauty of the day, my innocent young girl's heart opened completely to him, and my body hummed with wanting. Beyond that I don't remember anything of the day. Just a few minutes of life, but one treasured by me, even beyond the heartbreak that eventually came my way many months later. Because you only fall in love like that just once, that very first, unabandoned, time.