Ice-cream and Gayle
Ice-cream.
Oh the sweet, saccharine and sensuous flavours that swirled in my mouth. Oh God, did it taste so good. I loved the way the ice-cream melted in my mouth when it was inside my mouth, releasing the flavours, exploding! All inside the safe confines of my mouth. Whether if it was sweet vanilla, bitter chocolate, crunch cookies and cream or sour lime.
Ice-cream tasted best when the weather was hot, not humid though, but just hot. When the sun would be beating overhead and the clouds would provide neither cover nor relief. And also the gentle sea breeze that softly caressed the skin. Sometimes when you stuck your tongue out, you could taste the salt in the air.
But what made the ice-cream the most perfect was walking and eating it with Gayle. Did I tell you about her?
No?
Well, every other man would claim that their spouse or partner’s the most perfect woman in the world (in the case of a straight male). I won’t boast and I admit whole-heartedly that she wasn’t perfect at all, if only for me.
Gayle was outrageous and her temperament was invariably out of control. But when she wasn’t angry or mad (that was 99% of the time), she was wonderful to be around. She was just like ice-cream. You know how sometimes some ice-cream look alike but when you taste it, just like I mentioned before, it would explode in your mouth? Much like Forest Gump’s chocolate.
She was cool, she was collected. And she never failed to surprise me. One moment she’d be hitting me and shouting at me but I’d never shout back. She forced me to do ridiculous tasks just for her, threatening to leave me.
I know that she would never but I did it anyway.
Why you ask? To me, some women have this strange allure about them that makes you want to continue loving them and be with her? Some people find that with friends or maybe their family. I found that mysterious magnet about two things.
Beautiful ice-cream and Gayle as well.
Every Sunday, we’d set aside the morning to get some ice-cream,regardless of her moods or of our schedules. I’d frequently cancel my meetings with client on the eleventh-hour just for the ice-cream with Gayle.
So I’d eat ice-cream with my best shirts on and more often than not, by the end of our walk, I’d end up with several different flavours of ice-cream on them.
I liked chocolate best on me though.
Each walk lasted for roughly 2 hours and it’s one of those moments in life I didn’t want to end. And strangely, during one of the walks, I thought about death and how they say that your life’s precious moments would play like a film before your very eyes when you’re about to die.
I knew that if that happened, half of the film would consist of those walks with Gayle.
We’d talk about everything and nothing at times, the akward silence interrupted only by the shouts of children zooming past on their bicycles or her loud slurps of the ice-cream.
She ate her ice-cream clumsily but I didn’t tell her. Can you imagine telling a woman that she had a spot on her lips? I know some wouldn’t mind but Gayle would. For one she was temperamental, and one other reason was that it wasn’t a spot on her lips, it looked like it was the whole ice-cream.
I’d wipe it off for her.
Oh yes, we had a love that was unlike any other. Which relationship would revolve around two people and ice-cream? Imagine the sugar level in our bodies now, our love would be the sweetest one around and ailed by diabetes at the same time.
If only every other romance was as carefree as ours! With love, two people and ice-cream. What more could anyone ask for? I knew I couldn’t, and I didn’t. She knew she couldn’t and she didn’t.
So, I’m writing this to you Mum because we’re getting married next monday.
It may come as a shock because you’ve never met her but everyone’s coming! Our friends, our colleagues, our family (that includes you Mum) and the ice-cream man as well! I hope you’ll be able to make it, Mum.
Ice-cream.
-darthdodo
Tags: ice-cream stories love confessions