Vacations are just the perfect time to relax, have fun, a couple of drinks, and why not? A so called “one night stand.” Come on, do not play the “mother Theresa” role here and let’s be honest: if you are 18 and older you should have had at least one of those crazy summer nights. Any ways, the fact is that a vacation is the right occasion to visit cool places and to get to know new people.
In my case, I have a certain attraction for a lost town in the Colombian Pacific coast since I was a child. I used to go there with my whole family and my main goal was to collect shells, build sand castles, eat great food, and swim in the amazing waters of the Pacific Ocean. We went there on a yearly basis but then, as most of us know, the guerrillas decided to kidnap travelers so we could not go back for quite a while.
When I could return, I was not the little child all covered up with sunscreen anymore: I was a full grown woman who was craving for something more than a shrimp cocktail; I wanted to make friends and wanted to enjoy myself as much as I could but then, I met him…
I am not going to justify myself, actually, I plead guilty, but there is something in that town that makes my blood boil and the mere sight of him made me all nervous. He was the kind of man whose body was perfect and beyond and whose skin was all kissed by the sun. He was a dream come true; so gorgeous and kind that I thought I had met “the one.”
Summer love is pure passion; you get to know a person in less than a week and you show the best of your character and personality. You do things that you never imagined you could do; you even lose your moral values, if necessary, just for the pleasure of being with this “amazing” person. He noticed me noticing him and the connection was so strong that I had the best vacation ever with him. All that heat, all that infatuation, all those hot kisses made me wish I did not have to return. Unfortunately, reality is a bitch and I had to jump on a plane to come back to the big city and leave behind the guy with the soft lips and the smell of the ocean breeze.
The worst part; however, in not that I had to say “good-bye”, but it is that after going to the beach on a starry night and sharing amazing memories together, the guy decided not to write, call or text at all. It is the awful truth: a summer love is just that; an effervescent display of uncontrolled passion, nothing more.
It was good while it lasted though. So here I am, letting life go on; having a thought of him whenever I remember the sea of my ancestors and thinking that he probably is waiting for another tourist.