The Difference

The sand felt cold between my toes, as I remember the first time I met him. We were slow dancing on the pier. There was always slow dancing on the pier but I was in love. We jumped into the ocean; me in my white diamond studded formal dress, not caring how wet it got. When he first kissed me in that ruff ocean, it was romance.
Then it all goes to hell…
There was the intro of jive on the pier and it was wild. His kisses had more than romantic, it was burning. We were making out on my bedroom floor, as we rolled around. It would feel like we were drag racing against each other and passing joints back & forth. I remembered his six strongest friends carried his coffin that day. It didn’t rain.
The wind today is hiding my unimportant tears.