Fairy Tales can come true?

“Pleasure of love lasts but a moment, Pain of love lasts a lifetime.”
-- Bette Davis

I walked around for weeks in a daze thinking about him with a dull ache knowing that I would never see him again.

I mean really, think about it, a British sailor, New York City, one night stand...well a couple nights stand...but still what are the chances that he wasn't bullshitting me just to get laid.

And trust me if he was, it worked! He had me at British or at sailor not sure which but this was the very first time I had let myself indulge in such an elicit fantasy and if all it ever turned out to be was an elicit fantasy that I could relive with a smirky, little “I did something naughty” smile on my face then so be it.

I was going to continue to re-enjoy the moment I had already enjoyed.

I am not going to say that I didn’t secretly wish that he would contact me but I wasn’t banking on it.

So when I walked to the mailbox that June day I was not expecting a postcard from Halifax, Nova Scotia.

Or the phone call to make sure I received the post card.

His postcard swept me off my already elevated feet.

“I don’t know what it was but meeting you sparked something off up top that I haven’t see or experienced for some time.”

He wanted to know if he could come spend his leave with me in August.

Of course I said yes.

That postcard was the first of many love letters to come and from that moment on I think I truly was “Walking on Sunshine” when I floated towards that mailbox. To this day going to the mailbox always brings me thoughts of him.

I can't even begin to tell what I was feeling as I picked him up at the airport that first time because picking him up at the airport after what felt like an eternity of being apart became a way of life.

The time in between was like living in quicksand.

And the time we were together flew at record speeds.

He came to the United States.

I flew to England.

His ship docked in Florida and I flew there to meet him and on and on and on…

And every time it was like meeting a stranger that I have known for years.

That first kiss…the taste was foreign yet very familiar.

We spent those first few days reacquainting our lips, our touch, our bodies and then rest of the time melding us back into one.

Back into us.

We would go on vacation with my mother and stepfather, spend time with M3 and her family, go to one of our favorite places, Great Adventure, to get our “fix” of rollercoasters (we both had a love for them!) and of course spent hours upon hours by ourselves; talking, laughing and loving more times a day than should be humanly possible.

All the time trying to ignore the fact that he would be leaving again.

And he would.

Leave again.

Plunging us into this strange dimension of being in love and being so utterly alone.

And in between, more love letters…

“When you pick me up at J.F.K. that is the time that I look forward to, after a long stay away from you, seeing you, touching you + smelling you. I don’t even know myself, when I meet you, how much more I can love you. But its always more that the minute before and I keeps growing.”

It was truly a fairy tale.

Until…

Until it all fell apart.

Maybe it had no choice but to fall apart.

Because fairy tales aren’t really real are they?