by Maria Melee
on August 17, 2009
in Love Life
About ten years ago, I got the wild idea to go swimming in the Santa Fe river around dusk. (Yes, this is gator-o-clock. I live on the edge. Of reason.)
I threw some clothes on over a bikini and dragged my then-boyfriend-now-husband George to the car. We drove just outside of High Springs, Florida to a small park/boatramp off a bumpy dirt road in the middle of nowhere.
We chattered on the way there, all caught up in that blissful honeymoon stage of our relationship. (Plus, we were still technically teenagers.) The whole thing was sort of magical, you know? The excitement of a mini-road-trip. An evening off campus. Knowing we’d be jumping into the water all half-nekkid and shivering and giggling. Good times.
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