As a boy I always found beauty in everything that had to do with water—the rain puddles, the ocean, rivers and ponds. Their lies the beauty in my love for her—deep, wild, and fluid. As a man, I found beauty in love. When I found her, I found the embodiment of what it meant to be beautiful. Her perfect shape, filled with fluid curves reminded me of my boyhood love for flowing streams, unstable currents, and rippling waves.
Great memories of shades of blue water of the ocean were replaced by her subtle brown skin color. And her beautiful face, flawless like a perfectly shaped wave, swept me away, leaving the cares of the world behind.
Love became our weakness, an addiction, raging out of control like a burning fire. We always needed water to cool us down, to quench our thirst. Like heated water our bonds easily broke apart and evaporated, when our love was thrown into the fire. But like water, those broken bonds never remained permanent, and with time, their elements easily pulled together and rained down upon us.
We had pulled through the fire many times before, becoming even stronger, more attracted to each other, bound together as one, unrecognizable as individuals. We became an entity who indulged in each other’s strengths, flaws, and beliefs. We became one, bleeding into each other like paint, fostering a new color. What we became was unrecognizable to both of us, until we were apart.