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How do I convey how I feel? Raw emotions. Passion. The love for a small town in the middle of the Caribbean has stolen my heart and changed my entire world upside down again. I can easily, and without much thought, walk away from everything in America. It isn’t only the island that captured my heart. There are times when people cross your path in the most innocent and indirect ways that leave a lasting footprint in your heart. There are those people that ignite a low, smoldering fire within you and no amount of water can perish that fire once it begins to burn. I’ve had that fire once before and it burned wildly for years. I tended that fire, hoping to create a blazing bonfire but all things, with a certain amount of neglect, perish. But then something or someone reignites that fire and you find you can’t control it. You find you don’t want it to be controlled. The passion is lit from within. It only took a look, a small reaffirmation of how you see yourself and how you view the world; the kindness in your soul recognized by a fellow human being whose heart and soul serves that same purpose, always expecting nothing in return. A bonding over generosity, kindness, and explosion to the passion you both feel for where you are, the people and the place where you both reside for those few hours. You are locked away in the moment not wanting it to end because you haven’t felt that feeling in so long and you don’t want to let it end. What am I aware of as I sleep on the back deck of the ship? It isn’t the firm wood seating under my back, or the cool breezes in the early morning but the absolute awareness of a person who moves about. They make no physical contact, but you are aware with absolute certainty, with an almost feral emotion that they move about your space. You want them closer because there is comfort in their presence. You are aware no others know how you feel but at the same time, there is speculation because you can’t hide the look in your eyes. You don’t want to hide the animalistic instincts stirring within. You crave the touch but pull away because you don’t want to draw attention to the forbiddenness of the situation. And you want to relish in this moment that has awakened a long dormant feeling. It doesn’t have a name, this feeling, but you know it well. You’ve kept it contained for so long but with the night air, the beautiful darkened streets, the small alleyways curving around the small shops which line the streets, the sea gently lapping against the shore, the familiar touch, the kiss that draws your breath, the desire to meld into them but containing it because you know the raw emotion you want to give into. You dance about. You skirt when you can, but the touch, the look, pulls you forward. Why fight it? Nothing else gives you that sensation. No one else has awakened that desire. Only one man. It is the makings of a new journey, one you desperately need to take to enrich your soul, fuel your life. One question comes around and around, “Why not?” What happens now? The question doesn’t need an answer. The shared look. The unspoken desire. The touch of the back. The passion of the man matches the passion of the island. Desire to be consumed by both floods within. And there the passion stays, for now. Sometime soon, he should want to know your story of how you came to be who you are. We agreed to transparency. To be authentic. Just tell the story of Elizabeth. But the next three days, you want to forget your story and breathe in this person who just changed the direction of your sails. Some things make more sense now. Unexplainable but so fulfilling. The man, the island, all intertwined. All footprints. New adventure. How does a man who only met me a week ago know me enough to help me change the direction of my sails?