I went to Cocoa Beach this Summer. It was the first time I got to really sit and get lost in the movement of the ocean in years. My family splashed in the waves and built sand castles at the edge of the water and I sat there with my beer, daydreaming as the memories came.
I was back on Guam, sitting on the boulder overlooking the ocean, next to you. Your curly dark hair, a bit too long,
was blowing in the evening breeze. We watched, silently, as the sun set on the watery horizon. It was our last sunset together, forever. We both knew but never spoke of it.
After darkness fell, we all loaded into the car as you drove us to the airport. Again, more silence. At the gate, we sat and held each other, even with my parents watching. Was this really the end? A little more than a year of doing everything together reduced to memories?
Memories — TLA and the Horizon Motel where we met for the first time, the bowling alley and playing Pac-Man, days spent at the base pool playing in the water, you throwing me in the deep end of the natual pool at Gab-Gab beach, sitting together and talking as we rode the school bus to GW, Club Macombo on Monday nights with you DJing and me dancing to Funky Town, boonie stomping out to Talafofo falls and the football games you played as I cheerleaded in my pleated purple and gold skirt on the sidelines — sweet memories.
As the boarding call came, I looked you in the eyes and saw a reflection of my own sadness and fear. You kissed me. I will always remember that kiss. Were we really only 15 and 17?
That love, those memories and you have lived in my heart all these years and always will. I wish you happiness, my first love.