The Beginning

Of all the things that drive men to sea, the most common disaster, I've come to learn, is women. Women and the ocean are very much the same, you see, always changing their minds; sometimes calm, content, and peaceful, other times in an uproar with unpredictable crashing waves. In either circumstance, their beauty remains. I swear, women and the ocean are the two more mysterious spectacles in the entire world. No one can completely understand their capabilities or patterns; no one has ever been to their darkest depths to witness how deep they can possibly be.

They met in likeliest of places for a romance to begin: a coffee shop. Oh the cliché coffee shop story. In the beginning, she was sort of terrifying with her ruby lips and hard eyes, and she glittered, everything about her seemed to reflect light in some way. Her voice was loud, but not terribly loud, just the kind of voice that grabs people's attention. She spoke with great articulation and a specific, demanding tone, as though she knew exactly what she was doing at all times.

Ironically, in this moment, she had no idea as to what to do because of the mere fact that she could not make up her mind on what to order. However, she was important enough, of course, that everyone else would have the decency to wait for her, so she thought. One delicate, manicured hand on her skinny hip, head tilted, her made up eyes squinted at the menu.

"Okay, okay, okay, I've got it now."

The line could hardly contain their enthusiasm.

"I will have the white mocha." she paused. "With peppermint." another beat. "Oh and make it a double. Oh, and sir, no whipped cream, please." She quickly flashed the poor barista an apologetic smile which he left unacknowledged; he could not bring his self to say anything in reply, but nodded his head in false forgiveness.

"With soy milk!" she shouted abruptly. "I almost forgot." she smiled to herself, proud of her ability to make decisions as a strong, independent individual.

Those two words were like the gun shot to begin a race, their acquaintanceship was on the starting line. Admittedly, he had checked her out once or twice in the ten minute duration that he had stood behind her, but he had by no means been admiring her, there was too much to stress about. He happened to be running extremely late for a job he hated at a company he hated for a boss he hated, while doing something he hated: waiting. But when he heard her last minute request for soy, his eyes darted up from his impatient tapping feet to her glossy auburn hair. A smirk slowly crawled across his face, and a short laugh broke free of his tightly pursed lips before he could think twice about it.
The long skinny body pivoted to face him, and ice blue eyes pierced into his own, daring him to explain himself.

He averted his eyes, but she did not break her gaze and he soon became quite uncomfortable and regretted his apparently offensive snort. He swallowed a large breath before telling her, "It's just funny, ya know, these frou-frou coffee drinks are already filled with sugary crap and then you throw in soy milk...as if that will make a difference?" The man who normally stood at 5'10'' was slowly shrinking beneath her bullet-like eyes.

"Oh," she readied her rebuttal, in a tone unheard from her that morning, deeper and darker. She looked him up and down like he was a meal, "you mean like, having bad posture, a crooked nose, messy hair, a sloppily shaved chin, and then putting a suit on? Like that will make a difference?"

That low blow of an insult ignited something in him, and right then and there, he fell into a strange state of confusion, despair, and delight, which we call love, and she smiled her sly crimson smile, because she knew. 

"What's the name on that soy mocha?" the tremendously flustered barista piped in.

"Amanda." she said with a sudden curiosity in her voice, wondering to herself if each syllable spoken to each other from then on would be more meaningful than the last.  It was as if there was a gravitational shift in the world the moment he knew her name, the magnetic pull between their souls was stronger than they even realized. She was the flame to his dynamite.

I told you before; women are like the ocean, pulling you off your feet in the least expected of times; it’s not every day when you’re just trying to be on time for once so you can keep your heinous job because at least it’s a pay check that you encounter the love of your life to-be She was inadvertantly luring him in to come on a journey with her, on a road to discovery, and he was soon borne away by the billowing waves, and lost in the ocean that was Amanda.