From Here to Eternity

My meditations of late have been like strolling down memory lane. Each one seems to dwell on a certain segment of my past, and then I am left thinking about it for the next few days. Which then leads me to different conclusions based on the same event.

Such as?

Well, when I was a junior and senior in high school, I entered my first serious relationship. I was absolutely in love, no doubt about it. How did I know? Because one day I was in the check-out line at the local grocery store and I happened to see someone weaving through the cars in the parking lot. All I could think was, wow, that guy is so cute! And then when he came into full view, I realized it was my boyfriend! All these things happened ... my stomach zipped around and my entire body tingled and I just smiled and smiled. That is love, right?

So at 17 and 18 I was determined to have it all. You know, the never-ending love story replete with all the perfect scenes from all the great movies of all time.

From Here to Eternity ... the waves crash upon them ... I couldn't live another day until I had recreated this.

So for my birthday I arranged for just this to happen. When you turn 18, you should do special things, right? So we booked a hotel on the beach and BF was more than happy to comply.But there were a few details. One, my birthday is at the end of May. In N.H. that tends to be cold. But who cares, right? That was not going to stop me, absolutely not. We checked into our hotel and it was the only thing I could think about ... let's go already! We headed out to the beach and there was another small detail I hadn't considered. Other people. Were we actually going to throw ourselves down on the beach and start making out with an audience?

No. We weren't. We strolled the beach, hand in hand, and I thought, okay, this is good! This is nice. Then BF got cold. Did I want to go back to the hotel room? You know, there was a bed there. A bed! I did not want to use a bed! How tacky. We needed to DO IT ON THE BEACH. Okay, he rolled his eyes. Fine. It's your birthday.

That's right! It was my birthday! It was my party and I'd do what I wanted to. Eventually we returned to the room to take hot showers ... because we were freezing. Traipsing about in a bikini in 60-degree weather after the sun goes down is ... chilly. But ... the good news was that it was growing dark! So the bathing suits were gone, but the beach was still there, and no, there wasn't a full moon, but the beach was still there!

I dragged reluctant BF down to the beach and tried to get him to run in the water. He was a willing participant and the next thing you know, we were wet. And cold. This needed to take place, and take place FAST before we got hypothermia.

I compromised and laid down in the softer sand away from the water, and instructed BF to ravage me as only women are ravaged in the movies.

Okay, here are a few things you DO NOT see in the movies. Sand. Sand everywhere, in all crevices, surfaces and parts of your body. Sand hurts. Soon we were eating sand as the breeze picked up. As things progressed, it became obvious to me that if things continued, it might be possible I would be ruined for life. I gave up.

"You know," my BF said, relief written all over his face as we ran (at last, we were running!) towards the hotel. "Movies are fake. They don't even really kiss."

I stopped and panted from the exertion of running, bent over and spit some last remaining grains of sand from my mouth. "What? What are you saying?"

"It's all fake," he insisted, nonchalant. Not the least bit concerned with the knowledge of this.

"How do you know?"

He shrugged. "I took a class, they never actually have sex and they don't even really kiss. They just put their lips together and then move their heads back and forth. Did you really think they kissed?"

Damn right I did! As I stood there, covered in sand and freezing, it seemed as though my romantic vision of the world came crashing down upon me. What I had wanted: the most romantic night of my life! Had turned into one of the greatest disappointments -- upon discovering that all those movies were FAKE!

What about Gone with the Wind, I asked.

What about it?

Fake?

He laughed. "It was a movie, Lisa. You get that, right?"

I will admit it, here and now. I was a very naive 18-year-old. I had grown up, as the last blog hinted, amongst horses, not boyfriends. I buried myself in bodice ripper novels -- I dreamed about being ravaged as though that was all any girl wanted. Yes, I got that they were books and movies, but didn't they portray real life?

At all?

We returned to the room and showered (again!) and then shivering because we were cold to the bone, we climbed under the covers and tried to get warm. The TV was on and BF began watching that.

Ahem, I politely coughed. Weren't we DOING something? But did he really have a chance in hell? How do you please someone who thinks that the fake part is really the meat of the event?

Later I went out on the beach and sat there and tried to get it all into perspective. BF came and sat down next to me and apologized.

For what, I asked.

For not making you happy.

Hmmmm. I wasn't unhappy. I was perplexed. We held hands and sat there, listening to the waves crash upon the beach, and before we froze again, I felt something along the lines of what the movies and books portrayed: Except mine wasn't fake.