Mr. Little White Towel

His name was Marcio.

He was tall, dark, and handsome and had the most beautiful hazel eyes. And as a side note, he was Brazilian and showed up even Madge’s boy toy.

I was three years younger than him then. He was the talk of the town, and I was the preacher’s daughter. There you have it, a recipe for disaster.

And disastrous it was.

He asked me out, and we started dating. I kissed him in front of an abandoned old house when he asked me for a proof that I loved him. He used to walk me home after church and we would sit outside on my porch and plan our lives together- he would become a minister and I would be the perfect housewife. We planned everything it seems, except for how we would manage to stay together as time went by.

One day he walked me home. He hesitated to sit down. And then he never walked me home again.

“I just don’t like you anymore”

It was my first heartbreak. And I, naturally, dealt with it the way any other girl my age would have acted:

I slammed the door on his face. Then I ran upstairs and buried my head on my sister’s lap, and hot tears streamed down my face, until there was no energy left to cry and all I could do was let myself be overtaken by sleep.

The following months, I would cross the street if I saw him coming in my direction and yell to whoever cared to listen that he was gay.

I told you. A very natural reaction.

In my defense, that first heartbreak is always the hardest.

Eventually time came and took with it my bitterness. Soon Marcio stopped walking past my house and going to church, and I started dating someone else. And as these things usually go (well, at least with me), one day I moved away to another country.

But one day I also came back to knock on Marcio’s door.

I am still not sure why I decided to go knocking on his door after years of being away. I guess curiosity got the best of me. I’ve always been a little bit too curious for my own good…

He still had the handsome face I remembered- the beautiful deep caramel skin that set off his bright hazel eyes and a beautiful mouth with pearly white teeth. But the boyish body I remembered had been replaced by a well-defined, fit and toned body that now stood at the door in front of me, wrapped only in a little white towel…

If you’ve ever had a moment when you set your eyes on someone and you both instantly know what’s going to happen between you as if it had already been written and announced to the both of you, you understand the look Marcio and I exchanged to each other when, 6 years after I had last seen him, I stood at his door.

Did I mention he had just come out of the shower and was wearing only a towel, wrapped around his waist… so easy to take off…

These were my thoughts when his girlfriend walked in.

Her name is not important, as I obviously didn’t bother to remember. Marcio had already told me with his eyes everything I needed to know.

Still, I didn’t want to be rude, so I sat down and exchanged some awkward glances with his girlfriend. And very indiscreet ones with Marcio, every time she left the room.

If you knew Marcio, you would not blame me. In fact, you would ask me why I didn’t rip the towel off him and had my way with him the moment he opened the door…

But regardless of what I did or didn’t do, a few days later, Marcio called. He wanted to meet me. At the beach. Surprise? Not at all.

I was still relatively young then. But I could tell, by the way he held and kissed me, he had become very experienced in the years I had been gone.

We talked about life- about my life in a new country, about how things were with him… he mentioned he was now a soccer player and was soon being called to play professionally for the state team in Bahia.

And then he asked me to go live with him. To just get all my things and go with him to Bahia. Six years after he stopped walking me home.

Now, I was young. But I wasn’t stupid.

I turned Marcio down. I laid with him on the sand and pretended we were still in love- I offered him an escape from his life, a glimpse into what could’ve been if he hadn’t changed, if I hadn’t moved, if I was still young and stupid and still fell for his charm… if life hadn't come between us.

I don’t know what happened to Marcio. I don’t know if he became a Brazilian soccer star, if he married his girlfriend and had children, or if he is still answering his door with a little white towel wrapped around himself and giving girls a look that would make any heart melt.

But wherever you are Marcio, I thank you for being the first one to break my heart.

I also thank you for being a scumbag, and teaching me early on, that there are a million guys out there exactly like you. You taught me that you are the kind of guy a girl takes to the beach, plays pretend with, then says her last goodbyes and never looks back.

Not the kind of guy a girl gives up her life for.

No love,

Gia