The Waves are Coming

The treacherous waves are coming and the girl is not quite prepared for that. If she could just stop them, she would. Of all places, this is where she remembers him though they’ve never been to this particular spot before. Sunsets and beaches and skies painted with ochre, burnt orange, sometimes purple and your face just surfaces in my mind.

That was the day before it was over. We held hands by the beach. The spaces between your fingers, that’s where mine perfectly fit, but that day, it didn’t feel quite right anymore. I grasped your hand, traced my finger in the inside of your palm, feeling every crease and line but your fingers didn’t tighten at the slightest touch the way it used to before. You were staring at the horizon, deep in your thoughts, and though I was dying to ask you what you were thinking about, something stopped me. I realized that I was afraid of knowing. The waves were coming.

The waves were coming and the girl ran away from them but you didn’t. Perhaps, you were tired. Tired of your life, everything, meeting other people’s expectations. And I understand. If you push her away, she won’t resist anymore. But know that she will always be there.


I will never leave you, that’s a promise.
The tears flowing down her face are joining the saltwater and no one would know the difference. The waves were coming to wash out all of your memories of you and I and you were just standing there, you can hardly wait for the waves to consume you.

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