I Left Us on the Beach

As we sat there, I knew our time was slipping away, just as the waves swept back into the ocean.  We sat in silence looking out into the infinite blue, watching the few surfers that were trying to make the most out of the miserable waves of that windy, spring day.

Your flight was in the afternoon, and in a few hours you were going to be on a flight back to Sweden.  Your holiday was over and you were going back home, your home.  My home was here, on the California coast.  

I wanted to reach over and hold your hand or rest my head on your shoulder, but I couldn't.  I couldn't muster the courage to move, to do anything.  The distance was already growing between us and even though you were sitting right next to me, I already felt like you were gone. 

I sat, thinking of all the things I wanted to say and I could feel that you wanted to say something too, but you didn't.  You were always the quieter one, the thinker, and I could always sense when you were toiling away in your head.  So we sat in silence as the salty wind bucked across our faces, staring out into the sea, both too scared to say anything that could ruin our last moments together. I turned and looked at your stoic face, your blue eyes always gave you away.

The night before you had drunkily asked me "What happens after tomorrow?" reigniting the question I had asked you on my birthday.  I just stared at you and said, "You tell me," hoping you had the answer that I didn't.  You replied "I'm back in Sweden and you're here," and the conversation was over. You had resigned to this idea before I had and I could feel you trying to move on before you had even left.  

You turned to me and decided it was time to get back to your room to pack the rest of your things for your flight.  As we got up, I wished so much that I could stop time.  This was it.  The moment I had known was coming all along and that I had tried to prolong.  I knew things would never be the same and I could physically feel reality setting in.  

You left later that day and as I drove to the post office to send a postcard for you that you hadn't had time to send, I cried.  I knew deep down that I would never see you again and that this postcard would be where you were.  I would never have the chance to tell you that I loved you, and I hoped as you flew across the globe and looked out the window that maybe somehow you knew.

Days turned into weeks, which turned into months since we had said our goodbyes, and I had told you, "I'll see you when I see you."  The emails got fewer and far between and I realized that you had left us on that beach, and that I had to do the same.  So I left us there, on that salty, spring day.  I left us on the beach.

I wish that I could stop loving you so much.

I'm going to make something of myself...just to show you what I've become and what you missed out on.

I'm drinking wine, looking at pictures of you and I can't believe where we are.  We...who am I kidding...me.  There's no we.  There's only me.

It's all me.  And I wish I could wake up tomorrow and not care anymore.  Each day I'll get closer to not loving you and to start creating my reality from my dreams.

These love scars aren't fading.  But at least I'm alive enough to know I can make new scars and I'm something special.  Too bad you didn't think so.

You hope the wound heals but it never does, that's because you're at war with love.

And the sad thing, the really gut-wrenching part, is that you'll never know how much it hurt me after you left.  You'll never know how much I cared about you, and you'll definitely never know that I loved you.  Those last moments we shared as we sat on the beach, I wanted to tell you.  I wanted to reach over and look you in the eyes and tell you how much I loved all the time we had spent together and that in a perfect world I'd be yours.  But I didn't say any of that.  I could feel your silence too.  And I knew you wanted to tell me something, but like me, you didn't have the courage.  We didn't want to ruin the last moments with each other so we just sat quietly as the time ticked away.  As we left that beach and I kissed you good bye, I knew.  I knew that that was the last time I'd see you.  No matter all the hope I had in seeing you again, there was the painful inkling that I wouldn't.  And I drove off, tears filling my eyes quicker than I could've imagined.  I had one more thing to do for you as I drove to the post office.  You had given me a postcard that you hadn't had to time to send to your coworkers and asked me to send it for you.  I pulled up to the post office and tried my best to hide my tears as I gave your postcard to the postage carrier.  I wondered if the lady that took the postcard knew how much pain I was in.  Weird thinking that I was in some of the worst heart breaking pain I'd ever experienced and she probably didn't even notice.  I wonder how often I don't notice it when people around me are having their heart breaking moment.  As I got back in my car, the tears began again and I rushed home.  I walked into my house, not knowing what to do with myself as I looked around my place...your memory filling every corner of my house.  I packed a backpack and rushed out, leaving my place and headed to my parents' house, just to be away from all you'd left behind.

It's been awhile.  I still hurt.  I still gasp for air when I'm reminded of you.  I still choke down tears for you.  I still wonder how you are.  I still question what we had.  I still wish I had told you how I really felt.  I still think you may always ache inside me, no matter what I do.

I still wonder if you think of me daily as I do of you.

People say their worst fears involve not being successful, disappointing others, etc. but those things I can work at and change. My worst fear is the possibility that missing you will never go away and that this feeling will always dwell in the back of my mind and that, I feel like I can’t do anything to change.

I know I said I wouldn't write about you but this is positive writing so it's ok...

I feel an unexpected sense of relief knowing I won't be seeing you.  Funny how I'll literally be walking through the streets you do daily and you won't be a part of it.  It's better that way too, I know everything happens for a reason.  I'll always care about you but it's not meant to be and I've had enough feeling this way.  I'm happy and I can't wait to start another adventure, exploring myself and Europe once again.

Goodbye.  I won't be writing about you anymore.  It's time.  You'll always be in my heart but I can't do this anymore and only time heals if I'm willing.

Everything happens for a reason.