Growing up in Miami, during my college year’s I easily maintained a 4,0-grade point average whenever. To pass tests, I imagined calmly strolling along South Beach in Miami Fl with the warm eighty-degree temperatures surrounding my body. But today my mind drifts to the woman who stole my heart, soul, and mind.
I spent the previous summer abroad studying history at the University of Spain in Barcelona when I became emotionally in involved with Angelica.
On a relatively warm evening, I walked to the cafe plaza with fellow students from my dorm. When we were seated, I became transfixed and amazed with the sight of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. She sat several tables away, and I tried not to stare at the woman I wanted to meet.
Her azure blue eyes, sparkled like diamonds next to her high cheekbones, surrounding her dark black softly curled and wavy hair. I know she caught me staring at her several times, but I believed she was too beautiful a woman for me to begin any conversation.
Ten minutes later and two sips of my beer, to quench my thirst, I wrestled with my nerves to find the courage to walk to her table introduce myself and ask her name. When she spoke, all I heard was Angelica, I was mesmerized for several moments, and my gaze was broken when her two friends began giggling.
I told her my name was Kenneth Jamison and explained I was studying history at the University of Barcelona for the summer. When she said she was attending the same University, my heart skipped a beat with joy.
After some more small talk, we decided to walk to the Plaza de Catalunya where we strolled for hours just talking. We exchanged cellular numbers to arrange to meet for lunch the following day.
When I walked her back to her dorm room, I wanted to kiss her good night, but I felt it was too soon when she kissed me on the cheek. I stood stunned, and I could feel my smile growing wider. Here voice summoned me back to reality when she said I will see you for lunch and I said thank you, and kissed her cheek goodnight.
We shared lunch, the next day when Angelica invited me to visit her home in the port city of Valencia 3-hours south of Barcelona on Spain’s southeastern coast, where the Turia River meets the Mediterranean Sea. I met her parents who are both professors at the University Valencia, and we enjoy a great weekend. We slept in separate bedrooms as her father was most keen on checking my room at 3 in the morning.
As the summer passed, we spent every day together studying, visiting her home, or going to the beaches along the Mediterranean Sea.
With images of Angelica in my mind, love in my heart, I’m capable of passing any test and marrying the love of my life.