Isn’t it strange how you have to let things go.

I’m not sure if I can accurately explain the feeling. And even though I may be young, I think I felt it. So this is me, accounting to you, the story, of what happened.

So there we were, first night at the resort. Mum and me, we’d come on our own for once, and were super tired, on account of traveling through the night.

So there we were, in the restaurant, eating at the hotel, the waiters being chatty and flirty, but the sort that you just have to brush off without thinking about it. But there was this one waiter, a really young one. I kept catching him looking our way, and when he came to collect our plates, he hurried away really quickly, not saying anything. “Is that young one looking at me mum?” I’d giggle.

After the meal, the typical music blasted over the stereo, you know, Saturday Night, The Macarena, and even some group dances I hadn’t seen before. The waiters dragged up all the children, and me and mum sat and clapped. Suddenely, the older waiters pointed me out to ‘the young one’, and after some encouragement, he walked over to me, and shyly held out his hand. I politely took it, and danced with him and the other waiters, but, neither him or me knowing the group dances, completely mucked it up, and ended up laughing and doing our own thing looking like idiots! I didn’t care though, I thought it was quite sweet.That night, I went to sleep wondering about him.

The next day, we went out for dinner, but when we got back and were drinking at the other bar, mum would let me go for five minutes at a time, and I’d go and talk to the waiters, especially him. When we went to bed, I ran down to the shop on resort for chewing gum, and on the way back, ran into him. I had to leave, and so we couldn’t talk for long…he kissed me, just quickly, before I went inside. I think we were both shocked!

This would be the pattern for most nights, some nights we’d run off and have a kiss where no one could see us. This was pretty cute, as sometimes when music was on nearby, he’d grab my hands, and we’d break into a silly dance in the middle of a kiss, and then break into fits of giggles.

In the daytimes around the pool, I’d sneak off again, and teach him some more english, withstanding the playful teasing about my accent, finally catching on when he made me say words about six times because he liked the way I said it. This would end in baby catfights, which just made us laugh even more.

Now, this is where the story gets sad. It was the night before we were leaving, and my mum wanted an early night. I begged her to let me stay out, but she was having none of it. I hadn’t even had a chance to tell him I was leaving yet. Luckily, she gave me two minutes, in which I ran to him, and tried to explain. It broke my heart trying to tell him. I had to say “flying away”, I was “flying away”. When he finally got the message, his face dropped and he replied with “Oh..”. But the two minutes was up, and I had to leave. When my mother was sleeping, I sat on the balcony and cried. It was just such a shame that this had to happen. And then…I looked down, and he’s there! Under the balcony! “Come on!” He said, “Come down!”….”I can’t” I whispered, “She’ll see me, I’ll never get out!” I motioned back to the room. He thought for a second. “Tomorrow?” He said, pointing. It was less a question, more a statement. “Tomorrow” I nodded. He smiled, and cupped his hands around his mouth, whispering “I love you!” and blowing a kiss. I drew a loveheart in the air, and then pointed at him, to respond. We both grinned, and then I ran inside, and he carried on up the path.

The next day, we were at the pool again, and he would walk past, trying not to give anything away in front of my mum, but slipping me a secretive smile every so often. I would go down and see him and the other waiters at the bar, teaching them some more english, watching them entertain the customers, but, more importantly watching HIM from the storage room, as our eyes met, and he’d pretend to be doing a silly dance, or mime words to the music playing when his collegues couldnt see him, making me look quite odd as I’d burst out laughing for no reason. Another waiter from the other bar had given me an email address, and I had automatically folded it and tucked it into my pocket without thinking. Later on I got it out in front of him, and seeing it, he looked hurt. I hurriedly explained that I had just been given it, and he jokingly went to rip it, but instead, folding it and handing it to me. “Do it.” I said. He raised his eyebrows surprisedly and motioned at the paper. I nodded. Slowly, he tore the paper, and then aimed it at the bin, getting a perfect shot. I loved him being protective of me.

That night (we left at midnight, ironic? and no I didn’t leave a shoe!), I headed down to the bar to see him standing, alone, by the door. Sensing something was wrong, I asked his collegue what was the matter. “Its you,” he replied “Your leaving.” My heart dropped. I hadn’t wanted it to be hard to say goodbye. Another waiter took me aside and said “Earlier, he cry.” I wasn’t supposed to know this, and it made me feel terrible. I’d wanted to cry all day aswell. When we finally talked together, and it was time for me to leave, we had a last hug and a kiss, and as the coach pulled away, I couldn’t stop myself from bursting into tears. This was an impressive feat to hide, as my mother obviously couldnt get suspicious!

The plane flight was terrible aswell. Looking out at the stars, thinking about how far away we were getting by the second, every minute wanting to stand up, command the plane be stopped, anything. But that was it.

The next couple of days, I couldnt think about anything but him and cried alot of the days away. I couldnt stop the “a week ago, i was with him” thoughts from flooding my brain, and found myself forever staring at the sneaky pictures we had had taken together, and the tiny cocktail stick with a loveheart on the end that he had swiped from the bar for me one day. He had sneakily put his number into my phone, and we texted for the first few days without each other, telling each other we missed the other very much…

But in the end, we had to let it go.

Its only a few weeks on now, and I’m busying myself with my friends, and studies, but he’s still there, in the back of my mind.

Its just going to take some getting over.

Thankyou for reading this, If youve taken the time to x