shake it out

Do you know which was the moment that made me fall for you? Which one was IT, the one when I saw that loved you the most that I could, that single fraction of eternity when I noticed that this whole thing was more than infatuation? More than a crush? More than just desire?

It was back in ’09, while laying in that fresh, crispy bed with you, the sheets white as the intense sun above, on that last week of our summer vacation… We, panting breaths and sore legs, exhausted after that whole day that we spent together, talking and laughing and holding hands whilst prancing around the city, marching really, like we belonged to no one and defying all conventions of place and time. An maybe it was more at night, when the ball of fire began to fall, in that wonderful afternoon that we ended in a grand finale at the public pool and stayed way past midnight – do you remember it? – we swirled in the warm water to try and keep the heat away. It was in that day that I felt love exacerbated, a whole torrent of it. It was it, in that day when we gloriously embraced (“too dangerously close”, my head though back then), dancing without music in that sparkly water, lit by the moon and by the dim light of a couple of old lamps. We danced and dance to imaginary music (it was Coltrane in my head) and, later, sang old Argentinian tangos in bad Spanish… It was maybe back in the grass, where we made out in a frenzy, a duel of tongues that tasted of chlorine. We really scandalized the old people there. You were all legs around my waste and all arms, like a squid’s tentacles wrapped around my neck, tight. I truly can’t remember the time, the day or month of its end: it felt like an endless kiss. It was in that night – remember it? – when we finally rushed back up to our cramped hotel room (at least it wasn’t shabby), showered in that cramped bathtub – you were endlessly amuzed by how cheesy it looked but sat down in it anyway, your back against my chest and we talked and talked until our fingers looked like aliens’ and the water was cold, bubbles long done. It was in that late morning, while we laid down in the lumpy carpet on the floor, side by side, my head rested on your shoulder and you, so warm, so cuddly, body flush against mine, skin on my skin, eyes that fluttered close in the middle of the sentence, long lashes brushing my hair like tiny butterflies… and the shivers, the body-wrecking shivers from the fever, from the heat stroke, from love. It was in that moment that I noticed It could only be love.

That was the moment when I loved you the most, that I drew my future with you, the map in my head, traced, all while I drooled unflatteringly on you. That moment was that moment.


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