The sea rolled her way onto the shore, and brought you back to me.
Her breeze hung on my hip like the way you held on when everything was crumbling apart between us. It brushed my lips like the time I didn’t know it was our last kiss, and then again against my cheek like when you thought I was asleep. I was encompassed by a golden glow, reflecting your gaze when everything was okay: holding me in the shine of the promise that we would make this next season. With it, I felt the warmth of your body pressed against mine on cold winter nights.
And as the winds picked up, I remembered that evening when words where thrown and things hit harder than home. I remember the salt water flooding between us, filling those open miles we had always managed to cross. I felt your muscles seize and your skin became cold. Everything became blurry; everything became pale. As much as I held on, I couldn’t stop the waves breaking us apart. And, for the longest moment, I thought I was drowning.
And for a while, I was. The freezing waters climbed down my lungs and filled my insides with numbness. All I could do was watch the waves pass over me, suspending me in this halfway house between sinking and making it through. Over time, I managed to raise my lips above those waters: just enough to know that it wasn’t the end. I just kept floating until I found somewhere stable. There, I finally learned to stand again.
And that morning I stood on that beach, and watched the currents pull you far, far, away.
(image via tumblr)