Walking along the forlorn seaside today I watched the everchanging greens, blues and greys of the water. How the sky,
the farthest thing from the sea, reflected itself in the water so vividly, and
effected so deeply.
I gazed in awe at first, but soon grew frustrated. I knew I
had to feel something! The soft, languid waves enticed something in me which I
could not grasp or name. What should I be feeling now? I wanted to ask the sea.
What do you want me to feel? I know I should be feeling, I know you
expect me to. I needed new words, another language, a different soul.
She walked with me. For most of our long walk we were
silent, but her presence was heavy, I was so aware of her and she of me, though
our thoughts were so foreign and far apart.
So unquiet, loud and stirring our hearts during our wordless
stroll. The emotional distance so vast, the strained bruised strings that tied
us together too fragile, words would only be catastrophic. Then she pointed to the
distance: “look how marvelous, the sky and the sea seem to almost meet”
