Maybe It Wasn´t Meant to Be

Love. What is love even supposed to be? Wasn't it a path to our happily ever after? Was not it the guarantee to our fairy tale story? 

Well, I guess not. If it was, I would not be sitting alone during the summertime on the plane that was supposed to take us to our dream vacation. To the beachfront house, we had previously rented with all necessary equipment for diving, snorkeling, and an endless collection of books and delicious fine wines. 

That is right: my life was pathetic. I was not other than the woman dumped a day before leaving for a trip with her boyfriend of years. 

And there I was, alone on her way to Los Cabos. Crying nonstop and being the pathetic self I had exactly become a day ago. 

"Attention passengers, we are about to land. Please straighten up your seats, close your tables, remove headphones, and turn off all devices lacking plane mode. Thank you, we will be arriving soon at our destination." And that was about it, I was just starting my dream holliday by myself. Unless I could do something about it. 

We landed at a temperature of 38 degrees Celsius, whatever that was supposed to mean. At that moment I realized it was going to be an infernal summertime. 

Landed into the smallest airport I had ever been to and later took a car to the house I had been only dreaming of. 

Before even entering, I realized I had no other than two options:

1. Cry all freaking summer. 

2. Enjoy. Laugh. And if I was not going to party with him, I should be partying with friends. 

As predictable as I could be. Before entering the house, I had already called my two best friends and invited them into our dream house. 

⁜⁜⁜⁜⁜

Millie, Lyla, and I had met in high school. Went to the same college in California and separated till university. While I was a respectable writer, Lyla was one of the best corporate lawyers in NYC, and Mille was a recently divorced mother of one. There was no better way to describe us than a hot mess.

Eleven AM. I woke up to a song I knew a little too well: Solo Dance by Martin Jensen. I guess I found my new anthem for these days off. 

"Morning sunshine," Lyla spoke. 

"Hey, gorge," I replied. My friends had arrived an hour before midnight, and as good as it sounded, our summer vacation was just about to start. 

"So, what is our schedule for today?" Millie asked. 

"Going surfing, I say," suggested Lyla. 

"Then, what are we waiting for," I replied. 

We packed all boards into the Jeep we had rented, and left for Playa Monumentos. The waves were unreal, the tube formed closed into an unusual direction and was big enough to play tricks on them. Feet on the sand, board on hand, and as easy as that, the first flashback came. 

❃

"Hey, do you need help?" I heard a voice as I was somewhat exiting the ocean with my broken board. A cute guy found his way to me from shore and started picking up what was left of my board. "Let me take this from your hands." He insisted.

"Thanks, you really don't have to do that." I answered as quickly as I could. 

"Really is no problem."

"Well, thank you." 

The guy walked me back to shore and left the board on the sand. 

"My name is Sarah, by the way," I said. 

"Nice to meet you, Sarah. I am Alex," the guy introduced himself with a prizewinning smile. "So, are you here alone?" He asked. 

"No, I came with my friends but got driven away by the last wave I rode." 

"I see that one didn't end as you thought it would." Alex added with a sarcastic smile. 

"I guess it didn't," I answered, laughing too. 

"I presume you don't have a phone with you," he added. "Want to use mine to call your friends?"

"That would be great, sure you don't mind?"

"Not at all. With only one condition," Alex said with a mischievous smile. 

"And what would it be?"

"Give me your number."

"I don't live here." 

"Neither do I."

❃

"Earth to Sarah," Lyla messed with me. "Finished calling back memories?"

"Yeah, I guess." I blushed. "What are we waiting for? Let's go surfing!"

Dinner came into the picture pretty fast; thus, we decided it was a good time to go home, bathe and dine while sitting by the shore in front of the house. 

We opened a couple bottles of wine, spoke of everything we had missed in each of our lives. And later that night, we went to sleep.

⁜⁜⁜⁜⁜

Within days going by, more memories came along. Memories of Alex and I. Like when we first met that day at the beach after my board broke. Our first call, which happened to be after I pretended to have forgotten to give him my phonenumber. Because of that he tried to reach me by calling Lyla, and that's how he found me. Another memory was us walking on the beach after leaving the pubs at dawn.

Memories had invaded every single moment of my time. And as heartbroken I might've been, I didn't mind it at all. 

Everything reminded me of the relationship I had just lost. Alex and I both loved the beach, and my friends knew this. They saw every time I seemed to space out and had to pull me back. Yet, this place was helping me get over him. 

To move on, you have to accept, thank and leave things as wonderful memories they once were. That was what Millie used to say. That is how she supposedly carried on after her divorce. She had married her best friend, and things ended problematically after realizing they didn't love each other yet didn't want to live apart or hurt one another.