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She stands on the hill, the summer breeze blowing her hair around her face. Her eyes squint as she looks out over the ocean. The sun is shining it's golden rays upon her body. Silently, her toes drag thru the sand, letting it fall onto the blanket.
Growing tired and restless, she sits down. Her book is laying beside her. Sticking out is her bookmark, an old well-read letter. It's corners are torn and battered. She picks up her book and opens it to where she left off. Quietly her eyes read the words, but her mind drifts off to some place else.
Her mind is bringing back images of a field. A field of beautiful flowers. Of a soft breeze blowing thru and causing the most fragrant wind. She sees herself running across the muli-colored carpet of blooms into the arms of her lover. She can feel his touch and smell his scent. Memories come crashing thru her heart. The late night talks, the letter, the gifts of love, the feeling of being whole.
Suddenly, she opens her eyes. One single tear falls from her face. She did not even know she was crying. Opening her bag and finding a tissue, she carefully wipes her eyes. The memories are all she has now. But she can not bear to relive them just yet. The pain is still too fresh, the scar still too new. She tries to make her head tell her heart to stop. But she can't. Her love will be forever his.
She looks up and back over the ocean, knowing that somewhere, on the other side he is there. Hoping against hope that he is standing on the edge of this vast sea, and thinking about her. Both of them knew the risks of their love. They took those risk and shared a life time of dreams and love. Shared and lived, but only for a short time. Their time ran out too soon.
Silently she whispers a prayer, hoping God is listening and will answer. She prays that one day they will be back together again. Knowing the next time, she will never let go.
Gathering her things, she drops her book. Out falls her only physical tie to her lover. The only evidence of his being true. She bends down and picks it up, shaking sand from it. Lovingly she traces the handwriting on the envelope. Softly she whispers,"One day my love. Our time is coming. Just watch the stars."
Slowly walking down the path to her house, she picks a few wildflowers growing along the side. Her pace picks up a bit. Maybe she can live with her memories for a while. But for how long?
