Summer Lovin’? Tell Me More, Tell Me More!

Dear John,
 

You asked me to tell you everything, so here it goes…

 

Since you left, the summer has been a fantasy. After I won the local beauty pageant in June, I celebrated out of town with my BFF and our two ridiculously gorgeous guy pals. On the way home, we accidentally hit this—Never mind, I’m sure you don’t want to know all my dirty little secrets.

 

Speaking of dirty…there was this dance instructor at the resort my family goes to every July. He called me “Baby” and taught me things you can’t learn in books—like how to be a triple threat and record your own movie soundtrack ballads. On our last night there, this complete nobody put me in a corner, but he came to my rescue. He pulled me onto the dance floor and I had the time of my life. It reminded me of this one time, at band camp—wait, that’s a story best told in person.

Now that I am back home, my midsummer night's adventure at Kellerman’s seems but a dream…which brings me to August.

With visions of beach balls dancing in my head, I stuffed myself into a wild bikini and set my sights on the ultimate sand & surf fiesta. As I walked between beaches, I met these two girls named Hillary and C.C. under the boardwalk. They wanted to be BFFs for life—and I thought, over my dead body! I want to be where the boys are. So I ditched them. But when I got to the party, the guys were all sitting around on their beach blankets playing bingo. Lame!

 

Just when I’d given up hope of some summer lovin’, I met a boy, cute as could be. It happened so fast! Let me tell you more…He’d just turned eighteen and was soooooo sweet. We were good together—if you know what I mean. Soon we became inseparable; drinking lemonade and bowling in the arcade. One night, we made out in the sand under the dock until ten p.m. Unfortunately, the last day of vacation turned colder and that’s where it ends.

 

He told me we’d still be friends and wanted to make a true love vow. The gesture was incredibly romantic, and flattering, and totally naïve. Because, come on! Summer romances are fiction. You’re on vacation from stress and responsibility, with endless days and summer nights to spend with your crush. In summertime, the livin’ is easy—too easy. Away from your daily grind, you get to reinvent yourself as the perfect you (cue setting sun for golden backlighting) and for a moment in time you get to pretend you’re in a perfect relationship. But it’s an illusion. A two-dimensional teenage dream from which we all must eventually wake.

 

When the heat of summer fades and the boys of summer have gone, you go back to life, back to reality. Reality check –you ARE NOT that idealized self. You are imperfect, and those imperfections make you uniquely special. So rather than forcing a summer fling to weather three other precarious seasons, I realized I wanted more—a relationship that fit the gritty chaos of my everyday world with someone who would love me, flaws and all. A romance like that is worth fighting for, because that kind of love—the kind that flourishes when things are not easy—is truly magical.

Sorry Charlie,John. But, let’s face it—summer is cruel. It must've might've been love, but it's over now.

 
Signed,
California Gurl
 

P.S. Please don’t turn up on my front lawn holding a boom box, begging me to say anything. It’s so 1989, plus I’ve already been through that with Lloyd!



P.P.S. Keep the pen.

 Carey

YOUR TURN: Do you have any wild summer adventures to share? Tell me more!