Her hair blew rapidly as a gust of wind rolled onto the shore, where she sat absentmindedly in the wet sand. She stared into the vast sea of blue and played back the last conversation she shared with him.
“We’ve grown apart, love. It happens all the time. People change,” was the last thing he said to her before she furiously slammed the phone down on the kitchen table.
She was tired of people promising her forever and then leaving her a few months later. She was tired of feeling disappointed. She was tired of being abandoned.
The cold morning wind sent chills down her spine. She lost track of the hours she spent sitting in the sand, but time hardly mattered to her anymore. She was just about to head back to her apartment, to change out of her wet clothes and into the pajamas he bought for her last Christmas when she felt a familiar hand tap her shoulder. She shrugged the hand off instinctively.
The man’s hand draped a blanket over her shoulders; the smell of burnt coffee filled her nostrils and she immediately knew where this blanket had come from.
“I knew I’d find you here,” the man said. She still didn’t turn around. She still didn’t speak.
What more could she say? What more could they fight about? His tone last night was so… final. She didn’t have the energy to fight back anymore.
She wanted to reach for his hand and interlock her fingers tightly in his; she wanted to feel his warm lips on hers and hear the reassuring whisper in her ear that everything will be OK. She wanted to curl up into a ball beneath the coffee-stained blanket and fall into a deep slumber in the warmth of his arms.
But she was empty. She felt so weightless that she feared the wind would carry her into the ocean where she would drown, unable to find the energy inside her to fight against the waves as they wrestled against her. As a gust of wind picked up, she leaned forward, inviting the wind to take her, letting go of her life.
Instead, he picked her up in his arms and carried her off the shore toward his car. The chills reverberating her body no longer had anything to do with the bitter cold wind rushing through her.
“You’re safe,” he promised her.
“You’re lying,” she said harshly. But before she could open her mouth again, he pressed his finger to her lips and shushed her, lulling her to sleep. She’d be safe in bed when she’d awake, and everything would be OK again, as long as he was lying next to her, his breath in sync with hers.
Words by Kristina S. // Photography by Gina J Lee.
© 2015 Reef Magazine