We Have Always Lived in the Villa

Right now I'm sitting in a hammock. The sun is shining bright, and I hear nothing but chirping birds and rustling palm trees. My dad is in the pool enjoying the warm water and breeze. I have a can of coconut soda next to me, along with a book I've just finished reading. Seth gave me a few books a little while ago, and I decided to bring a couple with me. People say there is nothing to do on this island, but I beg to differ. We've done many activities here, and seen so many wonderful things. My phone is almost full with the pictures I've taken. The water is crystal clear with a baby blue tint, and the sky is mostly devoid of clouds. The heat can be intense, but I love it. Every morning I sit in my hammock and read. I wear a bikini top with a pair of shorts to keep cool, and bring a can of my coconut soda. I spend a couple hours enjoying the breeze and getting immersed in my book. I sway gently with the breeze and sometimes put my head up to the sky and close my eyes. I want to take in those moments of peace for when my life is not so peaceful. I can remember the times of happiness in my hammock; the taste of coconut soda on my lips, the feeling of the breeze rocking my hammock, and the faint smell of ocean air mixed with sunscreen. At night I swim in the pool and look up at the stars. There is a bright blue one to the west, and a duller red one more towards the horizon in the same direction. I watch as they softly flicker, and I wonder how far they are. I wonder if we'll ever land on those stars, or even see them up close. I watch the moon as it shines so brightly, but still remains demure. The rustling palm trees are constant. The trade winds keep the palm trees and ocean waves active. I think to myself if this will be the last vacation where my parents will be active enough to partake in adventures. We went for a UTV tour of the island yesterday and I've never had so much fun in my life. My highest speed was 78mph, and the terrain was something I had never driven on before. It was rocky and bumpy and uneven, and it was beautiful. Touring the island in that way allowed us to see the island for what it is. Not a monotonous tourist attraction or a boring island with nothing to do. It is a beautiful place with beautiful views and beautiful nature. Everything here is beautiful, and I never want to leave. I'm sure I'll read this post back to myself when I'm home and missing my hammock swaying in the breeze. I'll close my eyes and imagine the sun shining on my face and the breeze wildly blowing my hair. I'll look at the pictures and dream of returning. Maybe some day. Or maybe not at all.

Rite of Movement

He laid on my stomach and I put my hand on his back. His skin felt soft against mine. I felt his facial hair graze my naval as he spoke. I looked at the birthmark on his back and started to circle it with my finger. He made a movie reference, as is his style, and we had a brief exchange, then continued to lay there in silence. I continued to circle the mark with my finger and gently scratch his back. There's something about silence that brings out someone's true feelings. He was gentle and soft, as was I. We rarely show that side of ourselves to other people, but we become soft around each other. There are times when I see his eyes shift from being playful or witty to loving and adoring. I continued to lightly scratch his back and think about how much I would miss him. How I would look back on that moment and miss it so dearly. The feel of his skin on mine, the light tickling of his facial hair, the smell of his sweat mixed with mine, and even the birthmark on his back. He made me promise him something, and I couldn't help but smile. Sometimes it's the little things that count the most. It's very cliche sounding, but it is true. In that moment it was just he and I, and two bags of mini Reese's peanutbutter cups.