The bell rang.
He opened the door.
She was there, wearing a black dress and her always-bright smile.
It had been months since he'd seen her, but she looked more beautiful than he remembered. He hugged her and, at that moment, realized she was expecting a kiss.
They kissed, then went to his room and started talking. The end of summer was upon them, and they had a plethora of adventures to share from their vacations alone. His small apartment was filled with her laughs, and they were exchanging stories until his friend texted him the location of the party.
It was the tail end of lockdown.
The pandemic was nearly over, but the police were cracking down on illegal parties. They missed that one, though.
The entrance had rocky stairs leading down to where the sea was on your left and a wall of rocks on your right. In the midst of all that, people were dancing on the soft sand, in front of speakers playing psytrance.
The boy and the girl shared a bottle filled with a pink, almost red liquid.
After a while, she began to feel unwell. The boy, with the ability to sober up quickly whenever needed, reassured her, "Don't worry, I'll always watch over you. Whatever you need, just tell me. We can do whatever you want. Don't worry about anything."
Her smile returned, and she calmed down. She asked him to sit with her on the rocks near the party.
And then he thought, "Maybe now's the time."
The boy spent most of his summer adventures on a big island.
Legend says that in the ancient years, technology that was very ahead of its time was developed there.
On the last day of his stay there, he fell and went to the hospital. But that didn't stop him from traveling to another island once he left the hospital, because a very good friend of his was supposed to meet him there in a few days.
He lost his hat, though, on his way.
On the second island, there is a place where the sun and the moon meet, and at the same time, the two beaches become one, and they are like twins of light and darkness.
But the most important thing happened one of the next days, when he sat down and found the courage to write a letter to her.
And after a few weeks, at the party, as they sat on the rocks, he took out of his pocket that letter and said to her,
"I have written this for you. Would you like to read it?"
The girl smiled.
She didn't expect that and asked,
"Could you please read it to me?"
And the boy, amidst all the music and noise and people dancing, falling into the sea or throwing up, started reading the letter.
It was five pages long.
The essence of the letter was the following:
The boy saw a lot of fantastic places in his adventures. But every time he was sitting alone, he was thinking about her and how much he wished she were there with him to see the same miracles of nature.
After finishing the letter, he asked her if she would like to be with him so they could see all these places in the future together.
The girl smiled and said yes with tears in her eyes.
She kept the letter to put into her box, a small box filled with all sorts of objects, each one representing a memory, a person, or a feeling...
She was feeling completely fine now, so they danced together until the sun came up.
As the party was coming to an end, he asked her, "Do you have anything to do for the rest of the day?" She said, "No. I want to be with you all day."
They returned to his home and made love, laughing and talking until the next night. Despite being sleepless and exhausted, despite their past wounds and his mistakes.
They were truly happy to be together.
And they would continue to be so for a few more months, before the Ds, the Cs, and other shit came up.
But back then, they had no idea.
And around midnight, they finally slept in a hug over his single bed, among the green satin sheets and pillowcases, till the next day.
A dream of the realm...
Not every story ends well, and a lot of times, happy memories become more painful than sad ones.
Deleting them leaves only a sense of painful emptiness like it wasn't worth it at all.
There are days, though, rare ones, where you feel blessed to have lived such amazing memories; I mean, those are making life more magical than it is.
I feel that by writing them, the trauma closes even a little. It's better than nothing because time itself doesn't heal anything, it just allows us to experience different stages.
We have to keep trying to figure it out instead of ignoring it through the day until the night comes up, leaving us with eyes open, pointed at the ceiling.
Because if we don't allow ourselves to get burned, then how else will the light break through the darkness?
Thank you for reading ❤️
