about the beach

low light, empty spaces. 

a perfect refugee. 

the urge to write so i can look less pale. 

the ocean is so calm today. peaceful.

i once watched the sun rise sitting on the sand, like teenagers usually do. the morning was terribly hot, and i hated the rails at my face, gradually burning even more. 

but i was in love. 

maybe i have never really loved somebody. 

i still call that love. 

i remember the way he used to stare at me. i could feel it in my bones how profound those looks were. i always felt he held the most mysterious eyes i had ever known. 

now he's gone. 

we will never fight again. 

we will never argue endlessly, that way that would always hurt us both so deep. 

i hated his words. 

i felt the worst downer i can recall to. 

it's funny 'cause now i can't remember any argument that we had. 

and we will never fight again. 

the last years were quite calm. for me. for us. 

not for him, he was struggling through it all. 

he never looked fragile. 

the last years were quite silent. 

and now he's gone. 

i won't turn on the lights now. it is still my refuge. 

maybe this year i should go to the beach. stare at the ocean and its peaceful state. 

and, of course, i will think about him. about his eyes. about how some songs will always carry me to him, at any given year. 

i call that love. 

and it's not going anywhere.