When I am old, I will still remember that summer. There hasn’t been one like it since, and never will be. It wasn’t the blue skies, the endless days of sun, or even the brightness of the sea. I shall remember it because of you.

I was seventeen, and you taught me to surf. And we spent a fortnight together getting wet and lounging on the beach.

I shall remember looking at you as I lay on the sand.

The crooked smile and shining eyes. That toned body and browned tan of twenty-one summers. The way the saltwater made your hair thick and wavy. And the sand, that stuck to your damp legs.

We told each other our secrets, but I couldn’t tell you the one I really wanted to reveal.

And I shall remember the trepidation of counting down the days to when I had to leave.

As each summer passes, I see you in mind’s eye, exactly as you were, all those years ago.