I remember the seeming endless days of us traipsing through the sands of time; we never knew what we would find. Lost as always, stuck between somewhere and nowhere.
I remember that sunny June, I walked on the beach with you aimlessly, the setting sun sending out the last of its rays across the Atlantic as we reached for the sky with outstretched arms. There were waves, laughter, sunshine, and the distant calls of the seagulls. Crushed sand stretched out beyond our vision. The warm water teased us as it swept to within inches of our blistered feet. With our sunburned backs, windswept faces, and forever lost souls.
I remember that cold night, I jumped on a plane to see you, and we ran away to New York City to meet him. We were wandering on the street, looking for a restaurant to eat, he took off his coat and put it on you, and I saw the way he looked at your eyes, with a gentle breeze in the air, it prompted me to recall the sense of a burning passion, the kind that comes with love. In the hotel room, I pretended to fall asleep on the other bed, as you and him lay in the dark, I heard you talk about Hemingway, Destroyer, the world, and just life in general. I never told you that my heart started to sink as I cried in the dark.
I remember that time you told me how afraid you were to feel attached, for all the possible heartbreak, for all the scars that still reside on your skin. I encouraged you to love, I told you not to live so cautiously, for all the beautiful moments that make life worth living call for courage. Yet for all my words, I never told you that deep inside me, I too was frightened at the prospect of getting hurt, we are doomed to be vulnerable.