This winter, like any other, I went to spend the holidays with my family in Buenos Aires. Down there it’s summer, so pool, sun and plenty of heat. It promised to be a difficult trip, as per my story: Lecturas: amor, valor y sonrisas. Within that emotional journey, an email from a friend showed up in my box. An invitation to a cultural program called Summer Love. It seemed interesting, but a month away from its opening, I closed it down and forgot about it.
The weekend after my arrival, I had an appointment with my cousin. That was the night I met Him (maybe capital H to show that this is an important Him, and also to differentiate from your cousin, as this could sound like you are talking about the same person): my Summer Love, a random night, keen to win me over. We got introduced, talked, connected, danced, but never exchanged numbers; we unconsciously made the universe responsible for a second encounter.
And this is how it happened. One day, while I was working on my social media I logged into Facebook (where I never am), and there was a message from him awaiting. Wow! Took you long to reply! Really? Or are you messing with me? Yeah, 12 days! I contacted you the day after we met. Sorry, I’m not usually on Facebook, and you never asked for my number, I said trying to sound uninterested. Didn’t you see I was all over you at the party? If I was a girl I would’ve gone straight to Facebook to check if I had any messages. Well, first lesson: I’m not like all the other girls. I left him my Whatsapp and from then on, we never stopped texting.
When we were discussing our second encounter, first date, he said: Do you think we’ll have time? To know us better… verbally I mean. Because I’ll be eating your mouth with kisses, I’m not sure you’ll be able to talk. His witty lines were as good as he was in person. I liked his way, his naivety and honesty. Our first date was an unexpected success that only invited us to repeat.
Days went by and I would think of him constantly, but tried to limit our communications and encounters, afraid of getting involved. Oh my God! I’m such a coward! I wanted to see him, but I would put work, compromises and excuses before us; but when I opened myself to it, our days were perfect, eternal, juicy and enriching. There was some kind of intoxicating magic between us that I just wished would never end.
Meeting each other caught us by surprise. Falling for each other even more. Confidence and feeling comfortable with one another invited us to spend days together and things to which -I think- none of us was ready for: a deodorant, cuddle sharing a bed, dinners together, a tooth brush, a shared flat, orgasms, complicity looks… but most of all: falling in love.
Ignoring the expiry date of our love, we carried on with our dates, we increased our encounters and opened ourselves to meet the other, get along, share with each other. Our love started consolidating slowly, without us even realizing. And one night, on one of our nights out, we arrived to Centro Cultural Recoleta only to discover that the cultural program my friend mentioned was ongoing: Summer Love. It was as if the universe spoke to us and approved of our fleeting love.
That was the best summer ever! I was never so eager to live, fall in love, and enjoy like that time. I was left with a lesson that I’d like to share with you: enjoy to the upmost, life is short and changes in a second, so next summer: let yourself be loved and Hooray for Summer Loves!