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.