The Anniversary

Two years ago today was when we jumped into the ocean, fully clothed, because it was too much of a temptation to resist. I remember you were afraid of swimming a lot back then, because of nearly drowning in a lake when you were younger, but I think now you've overcome the fear. If you have not, you hide it very well.
Since we were in jeans, we emerged onto the beach ten pounds heavier from when we entered. Our clothes were hanging off of us, and gravity had never felt so absolute as it did at that moment. People gave us looks, or I assume they did. I wasn't really paying attention. Of course, why wouldn't they have given us looks? We ran into the water with reckless abandon without foresight or doubt, on a hot day when bathing suits were the only logical solution to the weather. But it was okay, everything was okay. It was better than okay.
The entire scene thereafter could very well have been from any romantic movie. Everything was in sequence to the famed "perfect day" that anyone could hope to have when on a first date.

If you remember, we sat at the picnic table in the hot sun, letting the salt water evaporate from our drenched clothing. We watched women walk by in their barely-there bikinis, swimwear my grandfather would have shaken a punitive finger at. We watched as men without muscle proudly strut the stuff they didn't have, showing off for the women with barely-there bikinis. When finally our clothes did dry, we walked over to the arcade, paid for tokens, and proceeded to destroy some poorly-animated zombies. One small step for mankind. The games in that arcade were so primitive compared to the ones they have nowadays. I had more fun in that arcade than any of the newer ones, though.
The afternoon wore one, and we rode the hundred year old carousel that we had both ridden as children, before we knew each other. Small world, don't you think? I remember, you couldn't stop laughing. The music was playing, the horses rotating, and you could not for the life of you stop laughing. I had no choice but to laugh along with you. Neither of us knew what we were laughing about, and looking back, there probably was no reason. And that's reason enough, right?

Before that, and I just recalled this now, we went mini golfing. I think you tried at first to keep score, but eventually we just whacked the ball around, trying halfheartedly to get it in the hole. Scores didn't matter, it was the time spent together and the experience that mattered. The mini golf course was in dire need of repair, but it was the certain imperfectness that painted a beautiful picture. Had the environment been perfect, the day would have meant less. By now you should understand what I mean.
We drank Cocaine, do you remember that, too? It was that energy drink you had been looking for for a while. We sat on the bench outside the store, drinking until the clerk came out to tell us there was no loitering allowed. Which was ironic, since the bench was there so that people may loiter. That day we found the drink, and we haven't seen it since. Not much of an energy drink, I can tell you that. You used to drink those all the time. Now you know better.
The final memory I'll share with you, so that we may reminisce, is the memory of that evening. The sun was going down, but there were still people near the sea wall. I was taking pictures of the sunset, the ocean, the people. Most of the time you tried to wave your hand in front of the camera to annoy me, and keep me from getting the shot. But I still got some amazing photos that day. I'll show them to you soon, I finally made prints. Do you recall the girl that came down to the wall in the sun dress? I took a picture of her because she looked incredibly pensive and sad. And as the crowds dispersed, and evening faded into night, we sat on that wall for hours. It didn't feel like hours. We talked about everything, and you kissed me many times.


Today, two years ago, our future together was only beginning. In a lot of ways, it's still beginning, because two years is not all that long. You should know that you still give me butterflies. You should also know that my face still lights up when you call me. When we're together, I have this overwhelming sense of peace that is both intense and subtle. My only hope is that everyone eventually finds that same peace with one whom they adore.