We saw each other from across the room in a hotel bar Mallorca. He had that slight smile that made me realize he wanted to laugh but didn't want to be rude. Cindy and I were trying our hand at playing pool without much success. It was balmy outside with a slight breeze in the bar that was open to the night air. Once Cindy and I realized we were being watched the game became much more animated. Two young girls ready for adventure in a foreign country.
He spoke no English. I spoke no German. The minimal Spanish we each possessed was enough as we walked along the beach the next day while watching his daughter run through the waves. Greying hair, a chiseled jaw and dimples. 36 years to my 20. It was a beautiful day to just be.
Dinner with Cindy and his daughter and then an evening walk on the beach. Alone together at last. A large rock at the edge of the ocean underneath a million stars. Trying out new words with a mix of three languages. Finally a kiss. The Kiss.
Our last day on the island. We would leave in the morning. Cindy and I had big plans to see the sights. How could I focus when my mind kept reverting to The Kiss and how much I wanted to feel this MAN's soft lips on mine once again?
Finally nightfall. Back at the bar. 43 liquor with pineapple juice, a tanktop and mini-skirt. Ready for anything that would come. He takes my hand and leads me up the narrow staircase to his room. We must be very quiet. He removes my clothing in a gentle manner while watching me for signs of hesitation. He is amazing. After, he holds me as I quiver in his arms. I want this moment to last forever. He kisses my cheek as a tear accidentally slips out. I hear him whisper, "Ich liebe dich."
Weeks later, back in Spain, I open a card with no return address. On the card are the same three words...Ich liebe dich...
I never heard from him again, but 20 years later can still picture his blue eyes and smile. A memory- my memory. Something that can never be taken away, yet never replicated.
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