Unforgettable, Unattached

There is a haze over my brain - a multicoloured, tequila-soaked, wonderful haze that takes last night’s memories and turns them into a love story.

Out of the Mykonian azure blue, a spell that had lasted too long finally broke. I know the weight I give it today will fade rapidly once regular weekdays roll back in, so my question is this: how do we let a summer fling be what it is, without attaching stories or expectations — of any kind, with any expiry date — to it? It’s hard to imagine so much fun happening so organically without wanting to explore outcomes beyond the obvious. I’m still replaying blurry flashbacks of the first touch - his leg pressed against mine and my hand resting on his arm, unnoticed -  that was louder than words: I want you and you want me just as much. Eyes locked, and for a brief moment we were alone in the crowd knowing we both wanted to explore this sudden attraction.  

He is going to be my favourite memory of this summer. But does he remember it the way I do? Will I linger in his mind, or blur into the haze of tipsy holiday nights?

We all choose our own methods to feel alive, but once you start acting like you only live once, you suddenly want to live forever. The sea was the same Mykonian blue I fell into that night — vast, untamed, and unforgettable, leaving me both refreshed and craving more.