The sea was just visible between the pine trees and the high rise. The blue was so blue, it could just sit still and be a blue block if it so chose.
I recall the smell, and always will. It is salt and surf and fish and seafood, and it is all rolled right up to the very edge of going off …that deep saltwater smell that gets thick in your throat and nose, and clouds your eyes, and makes you sniff and snort to get it into your lungs and stomach through the clearest paths possible.
My balcony was huge. I knew then that I didn’t and never truly would deserve its size, its scope of view, its wonderful use, its absolute privacy.
This huge open space atop the little block of units was mine alone: no entry to others in the building except via my apartment, my heart, my soul, my friendship or my desire.
I loved that place and rue the fall from grace and beauty that caused us to part ways.
That day was pure, though. That day was promise and hope and the future and smiles, and deep, deep breaths of that blue fragrant sea. That smell.
Today I begin another part of my life. That smell, the hopes that blueness evoked, is pure again. In my insignificant arms and puny fists and flailing windmills of belief I hold keys, passwords and gifts to survive and live. To ensure that I do not fall again from grace and beauty.