I took her hand, and we dashed into the pounding waves, splashing and frolicking like two long lost friends. On several occasions the tumbling surf threw her into my willing arms, and I was able to gaze into the sapphire pools of her eyes before we were overtaken by another wave and sent tumbling into the salty brine.
I realized at that moment I loved the sea, as mysterious and changing as her, beautiful in ways I had never appreciated, the same incomparable blue as her eyes, her hair. She was part of the sea, it was in her eyes, her hair, her thoughts. She should have been born some siren or mermaid, living her life in the endless vastness of her intended home.
Another wave crashed into me, interrupting my musing and sending me sprawling, flailing hopelessly until somehow she was there and my struggling brought me into her embrace.
She laughed, as wild and carefree as the ocean itself, and we spun around, touching, embracing until we were swept of our feet once more.
At last we dragged ourselves onto the shore to lie exhausted on the sand, breathing heavily as we gazed into the heavens. Stretching out my arm I felt hers, and took it in mine. We were barely touching, but, somehow, we were the closest we’d ever been.