She stood on a rock by the ocean.
Sometimes, some things did not have deeper meanings behind them. Sometime a rock was just a rock. The ocean, just an ocean. Things were not always complex metaphors and the sun was not always a god and not everything had secret hidden lessons about love and life written behind their layers like in those stories she heard about gods while growing up. Sometimes there was no deep down. There just was.
She thought of how the ocean water had pushed against the rock so much that it had carved itself an opening to pour through.
She thought of how hard the rock was.
She thought of how soft the water was.
She thought of his eyes as the warm wind rustled her hair. How they had looked as hard as the rocks because of the things they had seen. How her hands were soft the first time she touched his face when she kissed him.
She didn't understand why in some cases softness could carve through rocks, but in other cases the softness turned into callouses.
Heart break made people as tough as rocks. Witnessing the things he did meant that his eyes had stone walls built around them. And she knew that in some cases metaphors did not come true.
But she went to him anyways.
And like the gentle waves of an ocean, she pushed against his stones.
She wondered how much love it took to heal a person.
She knew that the sun was not just a sun and the ocean was not just an ocean and rock was not just a rock. Love was not just love anymore.
It tore her apart inside out.
As she stood on a rock in front of the ocean she knew that love was not just love. It never had been. Love was everything. It was everywhere.
It was deep inside of her like a virus. Sucking the life out of her.
Making her remember the day he left.
Metaphors, Stardust Scribbles