He once knew a girl who could light up any room she walked into. She was tall for her time 5'6" without heels, long black or as she liked to say dark brown hair with laughing eyes that always seemed to have the "come hither" in them. From the moment he saw her he wanted her without even knowing her but he was afraid of rejection. "What would a beauty like she want with a guy like he?", he'd like to say to himself liking the play on words, but knowing his poetry was as dumb as he was. No matter how hopeless the cause was, he had determination and finally he wheedled an invitation to her from a buddy who knew her.
She reached across and offered her hand and as he took it in acknowledgement of the meeting he felt the rush of fire gushing through his veins. From that moment he never stopped trying to get her to accept a date with him. He kept "accidentally" running into her, perhaps on the way to work, or maybe when she went for a walk on a hot summer night. I guess today one might call it stalking but he got to know her routine and managed to show up at the oddest moments and they would talk, laugh enjoy one another's company BUT she would always find an excuse not to go out with him. Then one day when he just happened to bump into her he asked her why she wouldn't go out with him, "Are you afraid I'd bite you?" he asked, because that is what exactly what he'd like to do. She surprised him by saying she'd love to go out with him. He was in ecstasy, then his self doubt crept in and he began to worry that he would make a fool of himself and she'd never want to see him again. He figured he'd take her to a exclusive night club that offered a live band, dancing, some food and a great view of the bay.
He picked her up right on time. He had to meet the family before she could leave with him. Her mother and father spoke with a Spanish accent and were a bit crazy. He did his best to impress them. They finally were allowed to go with the admonition to make sure she was home by One AM, "AND NO LATER!". From the moment they were alone all his fear left him. They fit together just like pieces of a jig saw puzzle. She laughed at all his corny jokes and puns. She really liked him or she really knew how to massage a male's psyche. They arrived at the club and hit the dance floor soon after they ordered their drinks, Sloe Gin Fizz for her and Scotch, Rocks for him. The band was splaying "I'm In The Mood For Love" as they got up to dance, a slow Fox Trot. She fit into his embrace like a glove. Her warm body was gently squeezed into his as they moved around the floor. When they spoke they whispered into each one's ear and her warm breath only raised his hopes for a better night as soon as they left the place. The time came too soon, it was midnight and she had to get home, in the house, by one or her father would kill him first and her only after he was sure he was dead. So any amorous thoughts following the hot steamy night of dancing the slow love dance went out the window as he drove rather hastily back to her house. Any chance of a kiss goodnight was destroyed as her father was hanging out the second floor window awaiting their punctual return.
The next few dates went just as good as the first one. He was getting smarter though. He made sure there was enough time left between the leaving of the night club and his getting her safely home to spend a little time "making out". One of these times when it was getting hot and heavy she asked him, before he could suggest to her that maybe they'd be more comfortable in the back seat, "When are we getting married?". This sort of left him in a dumbfounded state. Yeah, he loved her! Yeah he wanted to bed her! Yeah they had fun together! But MARRIED! His eyes resembled a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. He stuttered, harrumphed and made no intelligible sounds. He then said, "Maybe we should think about living together first.", to which she said her father would kill both of them. He got to know her father a little better by then and she was right. He still had a Bolo knife from when he cut sugar plants in the islands. His mind was racing and he looked a little silly with her lipstick plastered across his face. She then said something like one doesn't get the prize without paying for it, which he took to mean it is marriage or nothing. Despite all his fears he really didn't want to walk away from her so there was nothing to do but agree on a date.
They did get married and the prize was sure worth the price as they settled in on their honeymoon. As he reflected back on all this he couldn't believe how many years had passed since the time when he was so enamored with this beautiful Hispanic, hot chick. There was a lot of noise; a lot of love making; a lot of crying and a lot of laughter. Even as he got older she remained the epitome of a young vibrant, vivacious hot chick! Then her age and genes caught up with her and she became very ill. She fought the disease valiantly but it was always a losing battle. Finally she succumbed and went away and he was left with his memories.
Somehow, when he thought of their first kiss he could still taste her lipstick and feel her breath softly whispering, "te amo". Had he had a choice he would have left before she did but the choice wasn't theirs to make. He wasn't depressed by being left behind because through his memories, and her spirit, she was still with him, with him as she could be with no other because they shared moments only true lovers can share and no one else can ever be privy to them. When he saw young lovers he was always reminded of their love and the song that ended with, "Don't cry young lovers whatever you do. Don't cry because I am alone. Don't cry because we had a love like yours!", and the sharing of love is what makes a life worth living.