“How do I know if I’ll see you again?”

“You won’t”

A playing wink. What if contact information was never shared? No point of connection. What a way to live. Never knowing if the spark will rekindle. Maybe that’s the excitement to it. The not knowing. If the figure is there the next time around.

It was a beautiful handwritten letter. Layer by layers of textured paper, that was rolled, tied with string, and tossed to the sea. A glass bottle never intended to be received…

A moment in time lost in capsule.

It drifted further and further out, distancing farther away. What was written in the contents? Who was the intended recipient? What was the story being told?… Simply a memory. Lost and gone. Strangers once more.

She brushed over her shoulder with a smile, it wasn’t a big deal. It generally wasn’t with her. She was able to make him feel at ease whenever he already felt bad. When things were a big deal it was for good reason, she would get upset but kept her kind heart. He found it cute. Sometimes he liked seeing her a little angry just because of that, but he tried to make things better. Because even though he wanted her to feel and express all kinds of emotions, he wanted her to be safe and comfortable with him, and with herself.


Surf’s up. An indication that waves are high and approaching.

The adrenaline of the danger and the beauty of the crash. Reflections touching against fingertips. To ride with the waves…