I'm on a writing kick, so stay turned the next few days. You know what writing inspiration comes from, LOVE! This was actually written when I was in college, I was stuck on this essay, which of course I was planning on writing about love, but my outline was crap and I was stuck. Sitting in the sweltering back room of the campgrounds I worked at, doing homework instead of making jewelry.
After giving up on my past summer love coming back once more, I got a phone call in reference to fishing licenses since we were the only place open on the long weekend. Then he breezed through the door and back into my life (like he has a habit of doing) and my essay was practically done in my head before he walked out the door. So here it is, I say it's completely fictional, but of course there is some truth (ok a lot). So cheers to summer love and cowboys <3
August 9th, 2006
A narrative piece (completely fictional) – Summer Love
I met him the summer I was seventeen. It could have been love at first sight it could have been lust. However, as the hot summer days dragged on, our love blossomed into something beautiful. I remember every moment of that summer, from the night we met, the days that followed, and our good-bye. Sitting here now in the hot summer sun, those memories come flooding back to me, like a heat wave of passionate summer nights.
My summer had been terrible so far. My boyfriend of two years, who I gave up a scholarship for, decided he never loved me. To make matter worse he had slept with my best friend. Between loosing the two of them, I had felt so alone. The night of one of my friend’s birthday party, where I knew they both would be I had decided to tough it out and make an appearance. That had to have been the best decision I made all summer. To get to the good part I will breeze through the minor details. The early part of the evening consisted of my ex being punched in the groin (by me), everyone cheering, and then my best friend and me made up. (After all, sisters before misters.) Then there was him, the one thing that made my fabulous summer, the summer of love. He was a blonde haired, brown eyed, bronzed beauty who played football, did motor cross and wrestled. It was so cliché, and I had to have it all. Of course, he thought I was the crazy girl in which he needed to protect his “manly parts” around, but once he knew the reasoning for it and got to know me all that changed. We spent the rest of the night by the fire talking, and the rest of the summer falling in love. He was a country boy and I was a small town girl, and neither of us knew that this was the start of something we would never forget.
From that night on I always found him waiting to pick me up from work, or he was already there when I got home. It was as if we were crazy drug addicts and could not get enough. He attempted to teach me how to fish; I showed him all the good swimming spots and brought him to all the parties. When I think back, I remember a lot of beer, country music, pot and cigarettes. And of course a lot of talking and kissing as well. It sounds ridiculously hickish and tacky, but it was summertime and I loved every minute of it, just like every inch of him. It was like that Strawberry Wine song, “I was caught somewhere between a woman and a child, one restless summer we found love growing wild.” In that one month, we learned so much about each other from our late night talks. It felt like we had known each other for years rather than a few short weeks. He was so tender and gentle with me, always holding me and stroking my hair. It was the most feminine I had ever felt up to that point in my life. But the days were getting cooler and shorter and like all summers do, we too would come to an end.
“My biggest fear was September, when he had to go.” That Strawberry Wine song really does say it all. I too was leaving in the fall, for University, and him back to the states. He always mentioned how I would move away and find a boyfriend, but I don’t think he realized that I would rather remain in our memories than somebody else’s arms, but I was not sure where we stood and if I should tell him that. I remember the day he was going to leave, I woke up and looked at the clock and knew that he had left; I felt a little empty inside. As I rose to get my day started, the phone rang. It was him and he was staying a few days longer, I was overjoyed. Those last nights were the best. I remember swimming in Lake Superior one night and clinging to him in the cold water with only the stars above us. I think I clung to him so tight because I was faced with the idea of letting him go in a couple of days. He held me just as tight that morning as the sun came up, and I knew, even at seventeen, what true love was. During those last night’s we were so much more passionate. He even uttered he loved me in the back of a truck under a meteor shower (once again cliché), and I remember the very last night he was standing behind me and he whispered that he would miss me so much and again that he loved me. The words I was so afraid to utter because of my last heartache, but this was different, he never hurt me, only loved me, and I would miss him dearly. I spent that last night in his embrace, I vaguely remember him leaving, I just remember missing him. “It’s funny how those memories those last.” (Strawberry Wine)
In the days that followed, I had hoped to hear from him, days turned into weeks and then I was gone for school. I did not understand, for all I could think of was the words he has whispered to me before he left. Later I found out he had sold his truck on his return home with all my contact information in the glove compartment, and was unsuccessful retrieving it. So now, I sit here in the summer heat remembering all of this. As the days passed when he was here last year, I began to give up. Then he came. Unexpectedly he just pulled me close and all of a sudden it brings me back to last summer and nothing has changed. He tells me the story about his truck and keeps apologizing for not calling me, but I don’t care, it is summer and he’s here. I figure it is time to make some more memories to last through the cold winter months.
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