Peyton Meadows, “The Sea”

The day was cloudy, dark, about to storm soon. The dark
clouds filled the sky. The world seemed to be in black and white. She
just watched him leave, again.
He always leaves when she needs him most.
She decided to take a walk along the shoreline. Her long
brunette hair flowing in the wind. Her hair as crazy as the waves. The
long ivy dress could be seen from a good distance. The only colorful
thing on the shore. The sounds of the waves crashing soothed her,
the cold air blowing across her face. The water came up to her toes,
a chilled sensation that flowed up to her ears. The water was like ice,
cold and sharp.
She hoped to see him again. She feared this would be the
last time. The pain of seeing him leave again gets worse every time.
Every time she sees that uniform her heart breaks a little.
The sound of the waves became much louder as though they
were roaring at her, warning her to stay away. The water came up
to her knees, the bottom of her dress completely soaked. The wind
became stronger, pulling her farther away from shore.
The sound of a vehicle disrupted her peacefulness. She found
herself moving closer to shore. Making sure that this person knew
she wasn’t in need of saving. When she saw his pants, she knew who
they were. The sharp black shoes, the long ironed blue pants, with a
light blue button up, complemented with many pins.
“Becca, what on earth are you doing.”
“I – “she paused “I wanted to go for a swim.”
“This isn’t swimming weather, you know that. You come
here to think, not to swim.”
“Well, I could say the same to you. Don’t you have some
flight to catch, you know…” the air quotes came “places to be, people
to see.”
“Becca, I need to do my job. And I’m here because I didn’t
like the way I left things. I knew you’d be here; didn’t think you’d be
out here swimming trying to drown yourself.”
“I wasn’t trying to drown myself, one, two-“trying to think
of what to say next, “you shouldn’t have left things like that, you
shouldn’t have left me like that. I did come here to think. Think
about you and us and what it means when you’re leaving in a time
like this.”
“Becca, I’m sorry.”
“I’m done with the I’m sorrys Mitch.”
“I just don’t understand why you say things like that but then
say things like, ‘I want to marry you’, ‘I want to grow old with you’ ,
it just makes no sense” Mitch continued the use of the air quotes.
“Because I do love you Mitch, I’m just tired of trying, tired
of fighting for something that seems lost and gone, I want more
than “I’m sorry” I want you to prove you want to fight for us. To
prove you still want me.”
“I do want us. I do want you. I want you now, just the same
as I wanted you five years ago, the same as I’ll want you in ten years.
I want you forever, and I know ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t do much, but that
is me trying. I need to learn how to change. How to be better, for
you. Everything I do has always been for you.”
They’re still standing far apart, yelling at each other. Their
bodies are both tense and full of heat amongst the cold air. Becca’s
stance breaks, her legs feel nonexistent, leading her to him so naturally.
His right hand holds her face ever so gently, his left wraps
around her waist holding her tightly to him. She begins to stand on
her tippy toes trying to reach his height. Her lips gently meet his,
a small gentle kiss. He moved his right hand down the side of her
body, pulling her closer, tightly.
She felt his fingers gripping her waist. Her hands were
found holding his face, rubbing the scruff left after a shave. The
kissing continues, unable to pull away from each other. Every touch
leaving an important impression.
Mitch plants the most passionate kiss. Holding Becca as
close as he can. As tightly as he can.

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