Everyone knows the saying "It feels so right when it's wrong." But what about "It feels so wrong when it's right?"
Maryanne and I were on summer break in Greece. She chose Greece for our next vacation after watching Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.
College seemed to still be taking a toll on our lives and our relationship. It's always frustrating to be away from that special person. Of course we called and text messaged each other as often as we could; at times it got down to one text message in the past three days. But more often than that, we wrote letters to each other. No matter how unorthodox it seemed these days you could always turn back to pencil and paper. Pencil, so when you made a mistake, you wouldn't have to cross words out.
Maryanne almost never made mistakes in her letters to me. She was perfect; the most unique female human being to ever grace my life. A total goddess. I could never ever describe her to you and do her justice, but I'll try.
Her eyes are crystal green. A tad light mint green, but more baby leaf green, crystallized. Exotic, light golden skin that deepens to the lightest brown in the natural summer sun. Dusty brown freckles are sprinkled across her back, arms, the tops of her cheeks, and around her eyes and nose. Her eyelashes are long but not thick, elegant and they roll up straight with a slight curl at the tops. Long, sexy medium brown locks flow to her full breasts. Stray dirty blonde usually streaks her hair after a sunbathe.
It was hard to believe how she stayed faithful to me, but my heart knew that she was. My usual doubts crept back to me every time we were separated; separate schools take a toll on the heart! But it was so unfair to think that of her. We both wanted each other, so I had to stop doubting her no matter how often I did. She was mine and I shouldn't have to keep reminding myself.
We checked into our grand resort, which was absolutely delightful. The gorgeous blue waters contained a full hue. I stared in awe as the ancient waters of Greece splashed and rolled around Maryanne.
Maryanne was a freak in her own way but a free spirit. After the frivolous dip in the Mediterranean waters, Maryann and I decided to chill in our room and unpack. She went through her purse and popped a ruby red, cherry flavored lozange in her mouth. I knew her throat wasn't scratchy; she just wanted to have one. I picked up the tab and turned it over to read the back.
"Won't your throat sort of be in pain?"
"No" she answered.
Hmph. They were numbing lozenges. Ok then. Did people actually make the sound? 'Hmph'?
Describing our room would be a failure for me. I usually never went on vacation with my family prior to college. we've been to Hawaii once when I was 15, and a shark bit at my abdomen and left a mark when i was surfing. Florida we've been to twice: after graduating 8th and 12th grade. Seems like a huge stetch of R&R for me. Of course i'm always wanting to go on vacation. I find the daily stress of life to too exhausting. At most I had my babe, Maryann. that was all that mattered. That she was here with me and that she wanted to be with me and no one else.
Now we were on vacation together and i figured I couldn't get any luckier. Maybe I'd be wrong...
Cheyloha, our resort, was graced with authentic island palm trees and sandy concerte walkways. We checked in a round 10:30 after eating breakfast at a local coffee shop. I forget what it was called but we'd have to go back. It was way too peaceful.
With key cards in hand, we paced up the staircase instead of using the elevator to find our room. Maryanne brushed past a tan young maid who greeted her.
"Ciao!"
We found it. Room 910. I grimaced slightly at the sight of the number. September 10th is when the shark bit me in Hawaii. I knew exactly what type it was; thresher. I've always been interested in the ocean and its creatures of the deep and shallow shoals of island to moderate waters. But especially sharks. the mythological man-eating machines. Something drew me towards them. Perhaps it was their tough charisma, their fierce strength, abilities, and living habits, or maybe it was their rank at the top of the food chain that always kept me at unease.
I let the coolness of the memory sweep through me, and I opened the door.
