In school, I met an amazing Californian girl; she hypnotized me from the moment I saw those unforgettable blue eyes and always pursed sweet lips. Her name was Rachel. She was one year older than I and had already been living in Sydney for about three months. I never had enough courage to go talk to her. Actually, I did not speak English very well at that time. Maybe for that fortunate reason I think, she came and talked to me first, asking if I needed some help with English classes. From that moment on, we were friends. We hung out nearly every day; we always went to the beach near my home to surf, and we spent whole nights randomly talking as we sat in the sand. We were so young, pure about life. While I taught her to photograph, she was teaching me about love.
After only three months in Sydney, I was falling in love with Rachel. I started to get quite a stammer and to be anxious every sunset with her; I knew the beach was becoming much more romantic day by day, the perfect place to proclaim my love for her, and certainly to kiss her. I did not know anything about love at that time. I just constantly questioned myself: “Why me? She is so beautiful. Why did she choose me? How do I tell her that I love her? Does she love me too?” Sundry other love sick thoughts filled my mind.
Rachel, in my eyes, grew more wonderful than ever. I basically just wanted to hold her close all day long. The feeling I had when she was with me was so peaceful, delightful, and breathtaking; it was love for sure. Therefore, I could not escape