I had come to the boardwalk since before I could walk. My mother would bundle up my sister and I and off we would go to the beach nearly every weekend of my youth. As a child, ventures to the boardwalk only happened when she wanted something there, but as we grew up, she let us go more and more together and then on our own. The beach could relax you, but the boardwalk held the real excitement. From the dancing lights to the magical music, I fell for the boardwalk's charms hard. I never imagined I could love anything more than the boardwalk until I met her. I sat that day when she found me on a bench sucking down the remnants of a rapidly dissolving purple sno-cone. She deftly parted a nebula of dancing balloons and stepped into my stratosphere. Gravity pulled me to those piercing green eyes and something in my young heart told me that life would never be the same. What was left of the sno-cone fell to the ground, one more forgotten casualty of lost childhood. "Hi, I'm Andy, short for Andrea." She thrust her had in my face, and I recall sitting there like a mute. I could hear her asking if I had a name and looking more puzzled. I shared her confusion because I had never had trouble talking. Friendship started that day on the boardwalk, after I found my tongue, of course, and eventually, it would blossom into full-blown romance, with stolen kisses and fervent promises uttered on steamy nights as we strolled hand-in-hand on the boardwalk. Whisked away from those mostly happy moments, my mind showed me our final meeting on the boardwalk. Each of us unaware of what the other had in mind during that reunion meeting. Both of us had been away at colleges hundreds of miles apart. Comments are closed.
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