My Eternal Summer: Forget For A Moment And Remember Forever

Posted on April 28, 2016

In the scientifically correct sense of things, it is the meteorologists who determine when summer begins. And according to our state meteorologists, it has been summer for almost a month now, maybe a few weeks more. But in my self-centered universe, summer has just begun. Its arrival is rather late as compared to the past years, but it’s never tardy, for it is my heart, not the climate, no matter how hot it gets, determines its advent. And yes, summer – no, Summer – is indeed here. She has finally come. I thought she won’t, and I don’t mind if she didn’t, but I’m glad she did.

For the past few weeks after summer’s official start, it didn’t feel like it despite the killer heat that has reached 42 degrees centigrade. I didn’t feel like going to what is summer’s greatest symbol and official mecca: the beach. There was no desire for pristine, soft, and fine white sands; for azure and crystal seas; for towering palms whose leaves sway with the cool summer breeze; and lastly and definitely, for beautiful and sexy summer girls, especially chinitas in two-piece swimwear. Maybe it’s because I have Berna now, the best girl I could ever be with and the best girlfriend I could have, so the sea of feminine eye candy, while still sweet on the sights, is no longer as succulent as before. And maybe it’s because I’ve been employed for only a month, so I’m not jaded enough yet to want coconut trees and coastlines in lieu of the palm streets and skyscrapers that line Ortigas.

Case and point: for the first time in my life, I wasn’t looking for Summer, and it mystified me. I wanted to want Summer, but the same bliss and longing she once evoked wasn’t kicking, and I feared that it’s because I’m growing old. Those hot feelings I used to hold for the season has been extinguished by age and worldlier, more “mature”, “serious” concerns – normie bull. That was until Summer came running to me, looking for me, like a woman wondering where her ever-devoted lover spirited off to, and why. Now she has found me, locked away in a world of work, words, smartphone and office glass, and games, so she, through the help of my friends and my girlfriend, has finally dragged me by the hand and started running, so I ran along with her, and what I thought were bygone emotions from a bygone era came rushing back like a wave.

Yesterday I was in Bakasyunan Resort in Tanay, Rizal. It’s a mountainside resort with a mediocre pool facing a mountain with windmills at the top. It was okay, good at best. And thankfully, something better will be coming along: Laiya, Batangas in May 7. Yes, the quintessential beach trip for some much-needed Vitamin Sea. And while the beach will forever remain as a slice of sandy, salty, and sunny paradise, it has been, thankfully, stripped of what I realized is a fun but nonessential element.

Girls. To me, summer is flirtation, the search for love, or at least the beholding and experiencing of womanly beauty, especially by the sea. And this year, things have changed, as I have already found a love. While there is still the novelty of the idea of checking out and getting to know girls on the beach, it has become rather insipid and infantile compared to what I have now. I’m not renouncing the fantasy that I thought was the greatest part of summer just to tell my beloved what I think she wants to read; she’s not the jealous type anyway. Rather, I’m saying this because it’s true: summer playing is nothing compared to summer loving. Oh my dream come true, to sit by the beach with the girl you love the most, with an Aya Toujo, full of loveliness, goodness, beauty, and emotional and intellectual understanding, looking at the world’s oldest waters, the most accurate physical embodiment of depth, mystery, and eternity, talking not only about love and our past, present, and future time together on Earth, but also of the higher things in life, that of and beyond the sociopolitical sphere, the human condition, philosophy, the heart and soul, nature – I don’t know; the ocean of our conversation is just too vast, and there is no other place that is more appropriate to be the birth of those discussions than the very amniotic fluid of all existence.

But love and summer is not just purely discourse, but a series of seemingly unrelated acts that are actually anachronistic steps of a sun-blessed process. And by that I mean the things we’d do other things than talk: swim, frolic by the sand, sleep, and other obvious things couples do when they’re in the waters from where all life sprang forth. That life evolved and gave rise to the only spiritually beings able to love – us, and it is in that love that affirms the Creator, the author of life, whose reason for the birthing of flora, fauna, and us are a much higher form of the same sentiment Berna and I have for each other.

Or maybe that was a bit too transcendental or existential. For is not love for both woman and nature reason enough? To spend time with her beautiful outer shell and innermost soul at the beauty of God and Mother Nature’s architecture and feel the love and happiness of it all, that is all that matters; anything else is an excess. Like I said, I already have what I’ve always wanted; and to spend time with her at the beach would be to parallel the same manga scenes I’ve always envied.

There is, however, more to the beach than all of those metaphysical objects and female soul(s). To find this essential element, the hallowed place where earth, sea, and sky meet must stripped down of those  excesses: the long, fun, and cathartic road trips to it, its correlation to God and the entirety of existence, the girls, or even the girl, and then you will find it: the beach itself and everything it stands for. The usual calmness, beauty, and depth of the ocean is always a relaxant and an inspiration; and its rare instances of violence are testaments of its power.  Underneath its sea-green glass mass is a submerged forest whose water skies are filled with colorful scaly birds, or a desert with grotesque living spiked orbs and wayward soft-bodied beings.  The way its waves never tires in crashing onto the powdery sand are reflections of the recurring plain but enthralling things in our day-to-day lives.  We try to see if the answers to our questions, problems, and wonderings about the future are beyond its horizon. And a day – or hopefully, everyday – at the beach is to taste a simple slice of paradise.

Then again, the beach is a related but a sometimes standalone entity. And summer, while epitomized by sandy seashores, isn’t limited by it. Summer is also about road trips, cool drinks on a hot day and beer by the night-time, road trips, climbing mountains, dates with my girl, blockbusters, and many other things that make life good. That is why summer is eternal, for all these things are with us throughout our lives. And maybe that’s why I forgot about Summer: all her offerings, I get to enjoy the whole year round, unlike back then when I was still in school, jobless, and too stoked for the season.  But of course, there is still nothing like enjoying the season during its peak instead of diffusing its essence throughout the course of our lives. After all, a summer in one’s heart means moot if it’s stormy outside. That’s why I’m glad Summer reminded me of her at the right time: her time.

When life rearranges itself, seasons and months can slip out of our immediate recollections. But these things, like people, refuse to be forgotten; they have their ways of returning to us – or maybe it is they who make us go back to them.  Well, who found and took back who and how, it doesn’t matter; what does is that even though so many new elements have come – a new job, a girlfriend –into my current sphere, Summer, my seasonal mistress, and I are still together. We’ll always be, as long as there is the sun and a beach. And even if I get married, have children, reach new career heights, and become consumed with work, Summer and I will forever be locked in each other’s arms. And should I lose my grip, like this year, I know she’ll pull me back to her warm embrace. Even though there may be moments when I forget, she’ll always remember.