So we woke up early and took a shower and got ready to go. We got on the road thirty minutes late, but made great time. Listening to new AFI, smoking, drinking Mountain Dew and holding hands. Our first stop was to the Pleasure Chest - a fancy little "love boutique" on Santa Monica - it was also, really, the entire purpose of the trip. Sliquid. And that is all I'm going to say about that. We then spent an hour or so in Amoeba, looking at movies and music, trying to find that everything we were looking for. We also had a fabulous, homosexual lunch at Hamburger Mary's. Too big hamburgers, tons of french fries, a bad Madonna concert and sitting close in a booth. But the best part came next...

We drove forever down Santa Monica, stop and go stop and go. Finally we reached the beach and changed into some shorts in the car. Taking off our shoes and stepping into the smooth ocean sand. We held hands and walked along the wet sand with the tide coming in. I stopped and turned, pointing out our two sets of foot prints in the sand. This was something I always, always wanted. To walk down the beach, leaving two sets of feet, holding hands with the love of my life as the sun went down. We sat in the sand, burying our feet in the cool, moist grains - the ocean air chilling us slightly with wind, only the sound of small waves crashing. We laid down, in it, against each other, eyes closed. Laying there on that beach - sand sticking to our skin - my head in her lap, her arms around me. It was beyond perfect. If I could've stopped time and stayed frozen in that moment forever, I would have. Moments of simplicity, moments of perfection. Heaven.

We left a little early and drove home in a small quiet after getting lost in a sweet way. We got home early and relaxed from our long and beautiful day. She reminds me to be in love with life.
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