The Waiting game

I’ve been doing the long distance thing.
For the last two months, we’ve been trying to keep it together over the phone and through letters in the mail.
I know I’m old fashioned. And no, I don’t think chivalry is dead. Shit, it’s pretty much my whole game plan.
But with one month left on the wait, she told me she wants a break.
People tell me she’s found another and I should do the same.
She says she needs some breathing room. She also told me that I shouldn’t make it a big deal about when she gets back and that I shouldn’t have any expectations of us.
Okay, Phil Jackson.
Ever since, the phone calls have been few and far between. She no longer calls me “baby,” but “Rhys”. She no longer talks to me as her lover but a friend. No more text messages good night. No more “I miss you’s”. No more “I wish you were here’s.” Nada.
When she told me: “I need a break.” I didn’t know she really meant: “Let’s break up.”
Infatuation will make you blind..
In the meantime, I’ve been able to meet a few girls.
Some are gorgeous, others outgoing. Some don’t have enough to say. Others just won’t shut up. Either way, these other girls don’t capture my attention the way she does.
None can make me smile the way she does. None give me that warm tingly feeling inside. Yeah, I said it: THAT WARM TINGLY FEELING INSIDE.
Maybe these other girls aren’t captivating me because my heart is thousands of miles away. Maybe these girls are interested in me because they know that.
Most people say I’m too young to get involved and that this is the time of my life to just have fun.
I’m an aspiring journalist headed wherever wherever might take me.
She’s an aspiring photographer/ environmentalist / dreamer with beautiful brown hair, light brown eyes and a smile that’d light up a room.
And I’m convinced that something as special as this will be hard –if not impossible- to replace.
I can’t count on finding someone like this “just around the corner.” I’d like to think of her as the girl around the corner, through the bend, across the river, down the valley and atop the mountain.
Yeah, her affection hasn’t come easy. But when it does, I’m reminded that it’s worth the work.
Sometimes she tells me I'm too much. But if she keeps letting me do it, I must be doing something right. Right? Anyways, I'd rather try my best than look back and say I didn't try hard enough.
And I now know what attracts me to her isn’t just who she is. It’s the person she brings out in me.
The guy who writes her letters just because.
The guy who plucks his four-string ukulele and sings her to sleep.
The guy who, even while she’s away, continues to strum his ukulele as if she never left his side.
Hopefully when she returns, she’ll want to be there to listen.
In the meantime, I’ll sing to myself.

Sombreros..Don't leave Mexico without 'em

A timeline of me and my brother's 15-hour Mexican adventure

10:12 p.m. Arrive in Santa Monica.

10:13 Headed toward the border.

12:15 Just crossed the border. Doing the patriotic thing by drinking Sam Adam’s – summer ale.

1247 a.m. Our first $20 goes toward paying the police off for peeing in public. Wish I could just pay the police off in America. Welcome to Mexico.

2:00 a.m. Arrive at some club in Rosarito. Guy tells us 12 bucks gets us drinks all night. Not really..

3:20 a.m. Arrive in Encinitas. Headed south til the sunrise.

4:01 a.m. Headed inland into Chihuahua county. Wrong move. Chihuahua county is No Man's Land, where many have been killed because of drug violence lately. Headed back toward the coast.

5:15 a.m. We’re trying to find a place to rest our heads. Resorted to knocking on some old lady’s door to see if we can park our car and sleep in her oceanfront driveway. $5 ocean views.

7:15 Rise and shine!

7:45 Surfing the pier in Encinitas. Sick lefts.. Me and my bro are the only ones without wetsuits. All the locals are laughing at us freeze our ass off. The taste of cheap tequila still sits in my mouth.

12:06 p.m. To go cups for my margarita. Only in Mexico..

1:00 p.m. Back in Encinitas for surf session #2. Troy can barely stand up on his board.

3:15 p.m. Bumping Gregory isaacs in the middle of the desert. Classic…

12:29 p.m. Ensenada tequila bar. Spilt salsa all over my shorts. Not surprised.

3:37 p.m. Headed back over the border. Sombreros back on.