The way I felt the very first time I fell in love is how I felt the very first time I saw the Atlantic. I had seen boys before, but something was different about this particular being. My city of birth is Seattle, a land with veins of water pumped through it by the Pacific, but I hadn’t seen or felt the ocean until the Atlantic air filled my lungs and lifted my soul freely from my ribcage. I remember the first time my hand touched another’s and there was an new sense of being. The feelings were awoken from the pit of my stomach; for the first time I felt connected by an unbroken cord, and that cord was reeling me in closer and closer to this other warm body.
The sand gets pulled and pushed back and forth is the sea caressing the soles of one’s feet, beckoning to the comfort of the sea grass shores fringed beaches. The feeling physically and emotionally is unexplainable and hypnotic.
One cannot help but give into their whims and slip out of their tunics to wade. Moving slowly at first, getting used to the waves and waters, then finally letting go and fully diving in. A new found playground, a lifetime lover.