I stood there for a few seconds with apprehension. If I sat down in that lounge chair, with my back against his chest, his arms wrapped around my waist, and stared at the ocean in front of us, it would quite possibly be the most romantic fucking moment in my entire life. I read about it in books, I cried over the scenes like that in my favorite movies, I dreamed about it in my glittery, fluffy, pink, girly dreams. I could die for it. I could get one of my hands chopped off for it. But the guy wasn’t my fiancé. A tiny little problem.
“Elena. It’s just a lounge chair,” Chris laughed and looked at me with those dirty, dirty eyes. God. Or whoever is out there. Help.
I decided that I could have a seat – after all, my legs were killing me after a long day in the park and if I sat down on the sand it would be just outright bizarre. So I laid down, my head propped against his chest, closed my eyes, and let the moon rays perform their crazy dance at the tips of my eyelashes. And we just stayed there. Lulled by the tranquil song of the rolling waves, we stayed there infinitely. The time will go by, the seconds and minutes of our lives will speed past us, people around us will change, the world that we have known will transform into something else, but we will always stay there – on that beach in Daytona, that warm and breezy night in July 2004. Because moments like that don’t fade, don’t disappear. They linger in our bones, they dance on the top of the pink clouds at sunset, they melt into books and movies and shape the beautiful stories of love that are passed on from generation to generation. We didn’t know what the future held for us, but then again – we didn’t need to know that. We had that moment and it made all worries about the future irrelevant. Who needs the future, when you have the eternity? I understood that eternal love wasn’t an overly exaggerated, silly metaphor. It simply stood for something that will make a heart of a great-grandmother flutter as if she was still twenty-one. For something that will make an elderly widower taking a stroll with a cane smile boyishly. For something that will make that second when you draw your last breath joyful, meaningful, and not even a tiny little bit sad.
About the Book
Author: Lena Mikado
Genre: Romance / Chicklit
This novel is a memoir. Memoir gone chick lit (a bit twisted, perhaps at times too philosophical chick lit), yet still a memoir. It is a story about coming out of age, about what is happening on one’s mind when they are falling out of love and about trying to live in the present moment. All wrapped up in the sugar cone of that elusive humor of our everyday lives.
Elena knows what she wants from life. Her whole picture-perfect existence is planned out and allows for no deviation. She is engaged to be married and intends to be happy. Along with three of her girlfriends, she takes a summer trip across the ocean, to St. Simons Island, Georgia, United States. Pool parties, vodka watermelons and the eternal question – to shag or not to shag. Her whole world is about to be rock-n-rolled, and she will have to face a pretty hard choice. It all sounds like a setup for a summer-fling novel, but is it really like that in actuality, or does Miss Real Life have something more conniving under her sleeve? Are there happy endings in real life?
Lena Mikado was born in Voronezh, Russia, and moved to St. Simons Island, Georgia, USA at the age of 22. Lena received her MA degree in Linguistics, Translation and Intercultural Communication in 2005. She is the owner of a translation and localization company, writer, mummy, wife, blogger and belly dancer. And not always in this order. Lena writes tongue-in-cheek chick lit novels that are full of reflections on the matters that bother all of us every minute of our lives: love and hate, life and death, motherhood and trying to live in the present moment. My Journey to the Ocean is the first novel of the All Colors of the Rainbow series.
Buy on Amazon: http://amzn.com/B00QI89NW4
Add on Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/10439778.Lena_Mikado