State Lines: on springbreaks past
 
  3.28.2006  



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What to do with old love letters?
Walt.
Eleven things I used to believe.
Oh Elizabeth.
I borrowed your quasi boyfriend.
Cringeworthy.







I am a believer in spring break as a permanent part of life. Highlights from those past:

Walking into a friend's house in Fort Lauderdale to find a platter of fresh cut pineapple, shrimp cocktail and the warmth of retired parents delighting in four 19 year olds to fill up their pool and dinner table with silly chatter for five days.

Booze cruise, puerta villarta 1998. Do I even need to describe? I will just a bit. . . there were flirty Mexican boatmen, a donkey ride to a water fall on a lush island (you could slide down the waterfall!!), tortilla buffet, illegal diving off the top railings of the anchored boat, a newlywed couple folded into one another on the ride home, dolphins, tequila shooters. . .

A camping trip to Assateague, late spring, but a break nonetheless. Wild ponies, an imagined future reminisced over a camp fire, a breathless heart beat the entire ride home, do I say the word love, this soon, in this minute, maybe the next mile, maybe after another cigarette.

Rushing out of a VW van after an all night trek across the mountains in Costa Rica to a 6 am beach, the mighty Pacific wagging its finger at me, why do you never visit? and I, with guilt, stripping off winter and running into her--vowing never to tell my loyal Atlantic about my spring time affair.


 


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