The aquarium was nearly empty today. It wasn’t unexpected, considering the heavy downpour of rain outside. The Pacific Northwest was notorious for its generally gloomy weather, but I didn’t mind. I’d lived here my whole life, and the drizzle made for beautiful greenery during the warmer seasons. With nothing else to do, staring at fish while inside a giant glass tunnel seemed like a decent way to spend the day. When I was younger I’d absolutely adored the aquarium. My Girl Scouts troupe had been able to stay overnight in the tunnels for an event at one point. It was a definite highlight of my Elementary School years. As an adult, however, it held more memories than just my 8-year-old self sleeping on the floor with 10 other girls. I’d never gone there with anyone aside from family and childhood friends until my 21st birthday. It was a memory I held close to my heart, regardless of whether I should or not.

I was seeing a man who I was completely enamored with. He was a bit older than I was. At times he could be a tad dorky, but it was always endearing, and he radiated with confidence. He was enticingly charming, explosively passionate, and was the first person in my entire life to take *me* on a date. Id grown up being a heavy-set girl, and definitely not perceived as “desirable” to my peers throughout school years. Any relationships I did end up having were casual, short-lived, and generally disappointing. I did a fair amount of “wooing” - or attempted - but was not often the one to be “wooed”. I can’t say I was all too amazing at it, being an awkward teen. But I did try to organize dates and put together gifts for my love interests as best as I could.

When I met him that all changed. I was in a relatively scandalous phase of my life, and had no interest in settling down. I was texting different people, active on a fair amount of dating sites, and not really looking for someone to “fall in love” with. When he and I first started texting I had no idea how badly his presence would pull at my heartstrings. But the first night we met was sparks. Fireworks, really. Perhaps it was just excitement, but I swear that our kiss nearly stopped time. Nothing else existed in that moment. There was only fire and ice; only the collision of our worlds. I’ll never know if it impacted him the same way, but selfishly I think I hope it did. I sometimes wonder if it still means as much to him now as it does to me. I wonder why I can’t wipe it from my veins. It’s as if his fire still melts into my ice, years later. We dated for a while, but it never developed into anything serious. We saw each other fairly regularly, and my friends at the time grew disdainful about my “obsession” with this stranger. They said it was unhealthy - or that *he* was unhealthy. Maybe that *I* was unhealthy. But he didn’t feel like a stranger. Most certainly, it didn’t feel like a mistake.

By the time I ended up turning 21, our short time together had already surpassed my fairytale-fantasies. He’d dazzled me with beautiful experiences - and truly I was just as dazzled on nights we spent laid away on his couch at home. Regardless of his wondrous acts of courtship, I was never any less surprised or grateful to receive them. The same was true when his birthday gift to me was driving us to the aquarium during the downpour of dreary January. Though he didn’t find the starfish and eels nearly as exciting as I did, he never failed to grin at my goofy antics. My heart nearly stopped every time. With the utmost patience, he walked with me, hand in hand. He smiled while I squealed at the sea anemones and told me how cute I was as I exclaimed over fish.

“What?” I inquired to him as he stared at me from across the tide pools.

Shaking his head, he walked over and took my hand again, leading me on to the next attraction.

“You’re cute, doll.” He muttered. “I love you.”Now, though he is not mine to love, I know that I will always love him too.

And I know that the aquarium will never be the same.