San Juan, Puerto Rico

August 4-7, 2009

“The air in Puerto Rico” she said, “hugs you.”

Jose, the one who said, you only really love once, added that of course there is happiness, but LOVE, real love, it’s once, one time and you are done. I sit next to David who holds his absolut citron and shakes his head and says simply, “There are many.” And when I ask if there is a chance that he has never truly been in love, he admits it a possibility.

I, still drinking captain and diets, realize the thought of one love in a lifetime isn’t as painful now.  Is it because Jose was right, you learn how to survive?  That those breathes that once were hard now come out in laughter and tears, but with both, hope somehow permeates. There is certainly loneliness when you long for a house and a yard and a love that grabs you to pull you nearer, who’s eyes sparkle with joy at simply the thought of you.  

But you are willing to wait to see, to test the universe and its rules on love.  And realize maybe David is right, there all sorts of love.  Reminded that the breakfasts on Via Mantova someday will end, and probably sooner than you would like and when that happens it will be time to remind myself once again how to breath.