the lake is shallow, so i'm lying on my belly in order to float as i look back toward the beach. from my crocodile-view, i see him coming toward me, half-running, half-swimming, droplets cascading from his lean form, the stubborn ones clinging and glinting in the sun. My heart skips a beat as I take it in and in an instant I've pictured how the whole thing plays out - him falling in front of me, me splashing him back, then the heady feeling of being swooped up in his beautifully tanned arms and just as suddenly dropped, squealing and squirming, back into the water.
In the same instant, I realize that I'm myself, not 17, but on the brink of twice that, and I realize he's lived his entire lifetime within the span of my adult life. and with this, I recall and acknowledge a dream from so many summers ago, played out once again in my mind. the hope at the start of each summer that this would be the year I'd meet him. that yet-unanswered dream keeps a part of me trapped at 17.
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