Here is a scene, two young lovers sit at a little coffee bar in Havana, Cuba. Growing up in a small town, known as ‘La Coloma’ everyone knows about one another, and were raised together. Today is like any other day, except for some reason it feels a bit tense, awkward even. As the city goes on, the horse drawn-carriages storm by rushing to carry Cubans from one place to the next, neighbors shout at one another from the windowsill about last night’s opera, yet the two young lover’s can’t help but not notice the world around them. Except for their fast-paced beating hearts.
After years of watching her suffer in a toxic relationship, every time he looked at her, those deep pools of dark-cinnamon swirls seized the depth and heaviness of one thousand untold stories, which imprisoned the sweetness of her kind nature. They consisted of raw emotion and the closer he observed, the more they revealed to him the exact thought that crossed the marvels of her ominous mind. He had atlast been the one reason she had been searching for in life, to start again. When together, the pair never felt the need to be accompanied by anyone else, for all they wanted was before them. Much before, she was in a relationship with the father of her son, and much before he realized his feelings for her. The two shared secret jokes, and use to play throughout the muddy streets of this so called small town, always causing trouble throughout the pueblo. The doleful truth felt as if it would perpetually be that she would never belong to him, and he would never belong to her.
After seventeen years of friendship, he knew he was in for trouble when her laugh would make his heart dance to the sound of it. It had become evident to him, that this was the women he wanted to spend the rest his life with. On this day, they were on their very first date, and as she came it was almost as if his chest had forgotten to involuntarily breathe in and out. For she took away his breathe with every glance he took at her. After small talk over coffee, he simply couldn’t hold it much more. He had to confess, for he had felt an undying love for her for as long as he could remember, their first kiss was nowhere near perfect. It was clumsy and accompanied by nervous feelings. As they leaned in their noses bumped into one another, she wasn’t sure whether to lightly touch his face or where to place her hands. But none of it seemed to be of great importance to her, at last she was kissing him, the one with whom it felt so right. A first kiss had never made her feel so whole, and so complete. And in that moment she was certain that kiss would be her last first kiss.