Remember that one time...

The midnight water felt warm against my skin, contradictory to the stark shiver it had caused earlier that day. I laughed excitedly as splashes went up from my feet as I ran deeper into the water; squeals of laughter from my girlfriends followed in my wake. Smooth sand was all that met my feet, no shells, seaweed, rocks or any other object to hinder or harm. This was another first being crossed off of the bucket list--skinny-dipping. Slightly intoxicated by the experience, I dove into the water. The Mediterranean lapped over my arms and shoulders, giggling with me. My girlfriends joined me finally, smiling and silently recognizing a first for all of us. We were in the Mediterranean, and we were bare. There was no stigma here, in the dark waters of Spain. Just fun. Laughing and splashing with the lapping waves, we floated lazily, talking about how this was one of those moments in our lives that would be remembered. And it is. Some moments, as you're experiencing them, are instantly recognizable as those stories you will tell people or your children, "When I was your age..." or "Remember that one time in Spain..."Instantly inducing a smile and a fond sigh or laugh at the limitlessness of youth and the forgotten days of yore. As we laid there under a new moon sky with sand beneath our feet and ocean lapping at our skin, we recognized the moment as it passed, letting it fall into our memories. Then we swam on, making more.



Most of this trip has turned into these moments. I know that in a few months, I will talk to the friends I made here and we'll say, "Hey, remember that one time when we were in Germany..." And to have so many of those in my life already, at only 20, that's amazing. And there's still so much more to do.