It’s September. She can’t stop thinking about him. The way his callused hands intertwined with hers as they laid in the sand, looking up at the stars and wishing their love could be as infinite as space itself.
It’s November. The brisk air sends shivers down her spine and the crunch of the leaves serve as a reminder that things are changing, falling apart. She still hears the crash of the ocean in her dreams, but when she awakes it only makes her feel farther from home.
It’s January. Winter used to be her favorite season, but the sparkling white snow only means one thing to her now: six more months. Six more months of agony, of hurt, of longing. Six more months until she sees those mysterious grey eyes and runs her fingers through his knotty blonde hair.
It’s April. The tulips and peonies escape from their slumber and cover the ground in vibrant pinks and yellows. The boy from down the street asks her on a date, but she declines. She’s still waiting. The sunshine brings hope and promise as everyday passes, yet her life is still on pause.Â
It’s finally summer. She returns to the sea with her heart open, ready to run back to the boy who showed her the tides. Her hope only to be destroyed by the cold reality- he had moved on. 12 months was too long for him to wait, meanwhile she would have waited years to kiss those sunburned lips one last time.
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