The time: 12:40pm, yesterday afternoon.
The feeling: rueful.
The wife and I had spent the previous four days reveling in all the luxurious splendors of one of the most exclusive addresses on one of the world’s finest beaches. To that point it had been a storybook second honeymoon of sorts, much more focused on relaxing, romance, and re-connecting than my usual adventuring and wild fun.
Now, the clock was ticking down on our good times… literally.
The clock that crowns The Somerset is impossible to miss from the pool area, a nice convenience factor that had heretofore kept us on-schedule for a couples massage, an amazing private in-suite dining experience, manager’s cocktail hour, the Tuesday night beach BBQ, and the like.
Now, of course, things were different, each tick of the clock slowly, painfully marking the waning moments before we were to head back to the airport… to home… the Real World… responsibilities.
I grew to hate the clock for a time there, but as the sublime pool enveloped our bodies in one final loving embrace my feelings changed, choosing instead to fully savor each and every remaining second at The Somerset, while already looking ahead to enjoying a lot more time here in the future…