By Lana Moline
As I sit and stare into your eyes I am vacationing in you. I am soaring on the coast on a jet ski because your beautiful brown eyes sparkle like rippling waves. As I listen to you talk, I am reminded of a smooth jazz fest on an Autumn night – just smooth. Every word in sync, every idea expounds on the other all put together like the best combination of strings, base, percussion and you as lead vocalist. I hear the train conductor call all aboard as you ask “are you with me” because I’ve dazed off so far into your words. My eyes are closed but I’m not asleep. I’m just envisioning you perform amidst the rose petal covered stage, donned in a tailored tuxedo singing love songs to me and only me. I hear the applause and smile because, Jill Scott was right – “I’m blessed.”
This is the kind of vacation that makes me not want to return to work. I want to stay as long as I can to take in your splendor, just like a wonder of the world. You are too amazing. I’ve never seen anyone like you. I’ve never known anyone like you. I’ve never experienced anything like you. You are breathtaking and invigorating and I have a feeling I will need something cool to drink in a minute. Here comes the waiter now, maybe I’ll order something tropical since I’m on the Island of Love or maybe it’s too late because it seems like I’ve already had something intoxicating. I’m spinning like the wheels on this boat as we sail further away from the shore so no one will hear. When we reach the shore, we are greeted by the islanders and whisked off to dancing and dinner and hours of delight.
On the dance floor, you reach out for me and we move in step and suddenly it feels like no one else is there. It’s like I am flying high above the clouds as the flight attendant asks if I need anything. But I have everything that I need already. I look out and see our future written in the sky next to that ribbon that Stevie was singing about and for a while we coast, hand in hand with our seats leaned back just enjoying our flight with no cares, leaving the worries behind. The destination is incidental, it’s the journey that’s most important and making sure that we both arrive together. As I head to baggage claim to pick up my things, I smile and say “thank you for the vacation of a lifetime. It was more than I imagined it would be.
When can we go again?”
Lana Moline is an integral part of the Blackloveandmarriage.com writing team, freelance writer and poet who lives in Ft. Worth with her three kids and husband Emile. Married 11 years, both media professionals have vowed to maintain integrity in all aspects of print and broadcast journalism.Visit her at Lana Moline Speaks.