Stockholm, July 2017
Once the sun rises above the sky for the entire day and night, the atmosphere fulls with happiness visible in the peoples eyes as they hang out with their pals in the once closed out sections of bars and restaurants. We all find a good excuse to be outside and feel the sunshine touch our skin, which after months of waiting, feels warm. Summer was exiting all my life, but not as this time, not in the same way. The winter in Scandinavia made every single degree over 10 Celsius like a miracle,thus we celebrated them with booze and early hang outs.
A dear friend of ours invited me and my friend Rodrigo to an uptight party in Lidingö: Preppy area full of nice houses and fancy SUV’s. Every opportunity to mix with whoever it came we took it, and we agreed to join as usual. A long ride in the metro followed by a confusing bus route took us to the called house where the party was taking place. The only non-swedish were us,and probably the only men besides another shy guy friend of the host, something unusually convenient as a part of enjoying the summer was to get laid as much as possible before the endless winter came again along with the cold hearts and busy schedules.
The day went by and in between the alcohol, the Swedish games and two or three joints we found ourselves dancing to latino music. All the girls were over average good looking and friendly, fiting the ideal picture of the swedish summer in front of our faces. We were relentless, passionate, and, in a silly way over chivalrous, just to land at kiss or a number whom will never reply back.
The night went on and the remaining group decided to hit the a club in the city and we followed, as usual. From that trip a huge black out remains as the amount of drugs and alcohol were pretty high in our system,but I still remember a small blonde which her name I don’t recall guiding me to the entrance of the club as I was stuck in a trance of dizziness. An old building near Mariatorget was our destination, which during my daily walks I have never noticed. Techno, people wearing white Adidas shoes, and the usual hipsterish crowd of Södermalm were inside. I regain my senses with the beats of a song I recalled from a time I don´t remember and rushed to drink some water. After a glass or two I turned around to look for my friends and there she was. She was wearing a white dress with a Levi´s denim jacket over. Her hair was light brown and her blue eyes were staring at me while I looked at her perfect smile. Her name was the female version of mine and she was a professional ballet dancer. I didn’t want to confess that she was probably one of the most beautiful women I have seen in my life, but it was easy revealed by my stupid smile and my poor use of words. We kissed after an endless discussion of why 50’s rock’n’roll should become hip again. The rest of the night and my friends became less important the longer I looked at her perfect lips smile.
I wasn’t never the biggest fan of ballet, but for the rest of the summer I was present in almost all her performances, the same ways her body was in my bed and her face in my paintings until we departed ways for different lands.