When you fall in love, you don't sniff roses; no, you run full force into brick walls. The worst part is, you'll do it again and again until it becomes beautiful, the pain fades, and the impact only opens your eyes.



As we saw each other for the first time, we collided with brick walls, yes, twice at first sight. A fleeting exchange of glances. Back and forth. I didn't know what had blinded me, the sun or your crooked grin, as I stumbled over the edge of the pool. When I reached the top again, you were gone.



Later that same day, different time, but under the same sun, we met again at the pool. A brief glance. One. Two. Smiles, twice. Timidly fidgeting with our hands - until splash! - the coolness of the water came in the scorching heat. We swam laps. Our gazes crossed through swimming goggles, your view tinted yellow, mine blue, merging into the green of our brick wall crashes.



Previously swimming alone, lap after lap, now swimming together, gaze after gaze. Time flew by. Our love gears turning, seeking the right grip. Let's say, a clichéd love journey?



The same pattern repeated in our blue paradise. No words, just looks. But then, instead of brick walls, our heads came together while swimming on our backs. Painfully massaging each other. The first word: 'Sorry,' followed by a smile and more...