Falling Back

The simple fluttering of eyelashes
Turn and become that of a dream;
Inescapable.
The easy going reassurance
Turn into that of a sewing seam;
Shapeable.
In a flick of the wrist,
A delicate twist,
There again
To be pulled away,
Falling back
Into the day.
Birds.  Birds are singing now.
Green. The leaves are green now.
When did the season change?
How am I here?
Why is the sun setting?
My heart is holding dear.






But.. The silence is speaking.
My veins are creaking.
My thoughts are peaking.
In a moment my nails are going to my arms.
My doubt is leaking.
My words are shrieking.
Silence.
There is a warmth within now,
Full of potential.
My hands retract from my arms.






The simple fluttering of eyelashes
Turn and become that of reality;
A beauty that can't be described.
The easy going reassurance
Turned into that of a zipper;
One that is open and untied.
With a single motion,
Tugged to the ocean,
Back again
To run from sight,
Falling back,
Into the night.
Waves. Waves are crashing now.
Noise. My thoughts are restless now.
When did the season change?
How am I here?
The sun is rising.
My heart holds no fear.

Yours Truly, Jenny

I adjusted my jacket and moved the rear-viewing mirror to check my hair. My hands smoothed down the brown spikes and I stared at my light blue eyes for a moment.  With nerves in my stomach I cleared my throat and pushed open my car door.  

I looked at the home in front of me and began feeling giddy.  I had been abroad for the army for about six months.  I told Jenny I'd be home withing seven, so she wouldn't be expecting me.  

I felt my dopey smile fill my face and I adjusted my jacket once more before bounding up the stairs to our home.  

I felt the small box in my pocket and I closed my hand around it gently.  

With a deep inhale, I knocked on the door once.  Twice.  Two more times.  How many times was too much?  I'm not hearing anything, maybe another knock--

The door opened a crack, and I was met with a familiar pair of brown eyes.  Her hair was a lot shorter than it was; no longer falling behind her.  It framed her face gracefully.  

"Danny?"  The shock from her face drained, and I realized I was gripping the box now.  

"Hey Jenny."  My smile widened. 

"Danny, I--"  She half-laughed and fell into my arms, "I thought you weren't coming home for another month."  

I inhaled the soft lilac that coated her and squeezed her against me.  

"I wanted to surprise you, babe."  I put my hands on her shoulders and pushed her arm length away to take her in. "You're so beautiful.  Oh my God, you're so beautiful."  I hugged her again.

She motioned me inside, "Come in, come in, oh you must be so tired."  Jenny wiped at her eyes and tugged me into our humble abode.  

Upon entering, I noticed everything was still the same.  The living room still had the old white leather couch, light wood coffee table and matching side tables.  The pictures above the fireplace were at the same angles and it felt the same.  It just felt the same.  Like home. 

That's when I noticed something different. 

"Hey, hon, where's--"  There was a excited yap and in a fluid motion a black blur whirled around the corner and into  my arms, "Luna!" The black lab nuzzled under my arms and sniffed me for what felt like forever, but that dog, my god, was the sweetest thing.  I played with her, letting her get out her whining and loving barks.  Finally she spun in my lap (with difficulty because she doesn't realize that she's not a puppy anymore.  In fact she's one of the largest dogs I've met, but she acts like a cat.  It really is the cutest thing.)  and rested her head on the ground. 

"Danny, when you left she got so sad.  She would stare out the window and just cry,"  Said Jenny as she leaned down to rub Luna's head.  "I'm surprised she didn't come out sooner, but she was sleeping.  So I think she assumed the door was just some random person."

I laughed, "What, you have a lot of random people coming over lately?"  

She squinted, "Just Lina and Jeff with their boys."  Her eyes widened, "They're expecting another!  Lina said she hopes it's a girl because all that testosterone is just consuming her femme fatale, also, my mother wanted to know when would be a good time to visit her and dad-- when you came back, but we don't have to decide anything right now as that would be-"

"Overwhelming?"  I interrupted while laughing.

She grew bashful and kissed my forehead, "Sorry, babe.  I know you just came home.  There's just so much to tell you and I missed you so much.  You got my letters, right?"

I nodded and reached for Jenny's hand, "I got them, read them, and held onto them every time I went out on duty."

She smiled with tears in her eyes. "Good."  Something caught her eye and her smile faltered, "Hon, why did you come back early?"

Luna turned on my lap onto her back, exposing her tummy.  I rubbed it as I explained, "I got shot on duty.  Went clean through my calf.  Hurt like a bitch- excuse me, it hurt a lot."  I corrected after her look of horror. 

"I don't care about you swearing, Daniel, I care about whether or not you're okay.  What-- how?  Are you okay?"  

I nodded, "I'm fine.  I was shocked when it happened and didn't realize it had happened because of the adrenaline state I was in.  A buddy stopped me and called in help.  I had to calm him down in order to tell me what was up."  I laughed again, but grew solemn, "He ah, he died while covering my ground when I was in emergency care.  Grenade."  My throat grew thick. 

"Danny... oh my god, I'm so sorry."  She pulled me against her, "I am so sorry."  I put my hand on her cheek and looked at her eyes. 

"It's okay.  I'm okay.  They discharged me and I am going to be looking for a therapist so I don't develop PTSD, or if I do have it then I can work through it."  I kissed her.  "I missed you so fucking much."  She laughed.

"Language, Danny."  We both sat there, hugging, kissing, talking, laughing, and every once in a while I ended up crying.  Or she would.  I told her stories about my travels and she told me about what had happened here.  

And we didn't notice how late it was until we saw the sun peeking through the window.  

We were exhausted physically, but mentally we were wired.  

So we went for a walk by the park.  See, it had this huge hill that let you watch both the sunrises and sunsets.  

And when the sun was high enough to bring tears to her eyes I went on one knee and pull out the tiny box. 

And when I opened it she cried. 

And nodded really aggressively. 

Like, I thought her head would topple off. 

And I put the small little ring on her fourth finger.  

And we fell asleep watching the sunrise. 

A Strange, Beautiful Dream

I have a lot of dreams.
Weird dreams.
Not ones that take place in the supermarket and the can I'm looking at is for fish children.
Oh no.
It's like I'm in a different life from a different universe.
I think that's why I believe my body is sleeping but my spirit goes to a different dimension.


I was packing because I was visiting a home, and it was time to leave.  There was a boy there around my age who was getting on my nerves, and I knew I had to talk to him before I left.  When I got to his room to get my bag (I was staying in his room seeing as there were two beds, three actually, but I'll get to that) and he was sitting on his bed reading.
When I opened the doors his eyes flicked up and went back to his book.  I said meekly that I came to finish packing.  He didn't respond until I started packing.
"Do things ever confuse you?"  He put the book down.
"Yes, all the time, really."  I was unzipping my bag to put in clothes.
"Aiya, what if something were to happen?  Whether you're on the streets or not... or, here's a better example,"  He scooted closer to me, "If I were to kiss something, someone, or you, what would happen?"  His face was getting closer and he repeated himself, "If I were to kiss something, someone or you..."  My eyes were fluttering shut and dammit!  I couldn't open them!  I wanted to see this!  Why can't I open them! I felt his breath get closer and my opened slightly enough to see his lips.  I felt a soft, beautiful pressure on my cheeks, and after a moment he pulled away.
I was almost disappointed he didn't kiss my mouth, but I was so wonder-stuck I still. Couldn't. Open. My. Eyes.  I was getting embarrassed.  Finally I got them open and he was smiling at me.

The scene switched to us laying in bed (No, we didn't do anything, I knew that much)  We were simply holding each other, sometimes kissing.  But I knew I had to pack.  So I told him that, and began to get up.
He asked if I had to.
"Aiya, please."
But I tilted my head and said, "When I'm done we don't have to stress about anything."

Now, I know I said my dreams get weird, and this doesn't sound weird.  It sounds normal.  This isn't.  First off, I can't speak to guys I like.  I feel like I'm annoying them, so I wait for them to talk to me- which is sometimes.  Second, we haven't got to the weird part.

Suddenly there were bangs on the door, and he jumped out of bed in a fury, panic swept through me as I got so very confused as to what was happening.  Two ghost girls appeared (I knew they were dead because I just knew)  and hugged me.  The scene changed to a train.  We were all in a train, and the man banging at the door (I knew he was a man because he was banging on glass doors) was still trying to get in.
There were a lot of us now; me, the boy, the two ghost girls (Who lived in the bedroom with their brother before they died of a sickness, again, I just knew this)  as well as a few of my family members and closest, oldest friends.
The boy gave us this tube and told us to put it on our teeth.
Ha. Ha.  We did it without second thought.
The man was still banging, oh gosh it was scary and intense and crazy.
When we put the paste on our teeth, the green paste made our teeth- guess which colour-- Green!
We were all so confused, and the train wasn't moving but we knew we would get to our destination.
The boy who kissed me pulled me off to the side and I asked, "What's going on (I said his name, but it blurred out in the dream.)?"
He hugged me and said, "Magic and Natural power go against one another."
And then I looked at the man on the opposite side of the glass door holding a laser pen, trying to get in.  And it was melting through the glass.
Ohhhh.  It made sense now.  The boy had some kind of power (Probably intense charisma, but I never find out) and the man uses magic!  And they're enemies!

The dream ends with the boy giving us new tubes of paste to make our teeth white again, but the colour is bright, glowing white-- like when Ross bleaches his teeth.


If you've been on my blog before, you know my name is Emily.  In dreams I've never told my name to anyone, and it felt like it was me.  But in this dream, I not only told him my name, but I said my name was Maiya.  Not only was that weird, but I was given a nickname in it-- Aiya.
This is the real reason I wanted to write down this dream, because this has never happened to me before with my memory.  I thought it was incredible.
Thanks for reading, you lovely soul,
-Emily

My Sunset

I will watch the sun rise
with the faintest memory
of how my lungs became filled
of the scarlets before me
and how when the light
grew above the hill
and draped my eyes
as I felt my heart fill.
I shan't forget how your eyes crinkled
smiling at me as I passed.
Even though my heart is thudding
from the shadow you had cast.
And I'll keep walking
with confusion swelling
and I will keep my mouth shut
because with you, there is no telling
how long you will see me.
But just like you,
the sunrise will fade
into the sky thaw we will watch.
And my heart will trade
itself for a cloud
to make myself feel light.
Even though without the sun
nothing, oh nothing will be as bright. 

The Man With a Beautiful Soul

He tapped his hang drum wondrously
as though pulling you into Alice's world
scaring all your thoughts away
with a simple wrist twirl
tapping
and tapping
became melodic
and breathtaking
as though taking all of your worries
and not hiding them--
but letting them fall away into the breeze
the breeze that sang out his heart stopping notes.
The girl who was speaking solely to her brother
didn't stop to listen
until her brother told her to stop
and as she stopped
as did her breath
because what she heard was so uniquely lovely
that her eyes began to swell.
She offered her brother to give the man money
but he shook his head and told her to give it
and as she opened her wallet,
a darkness creaked into her
she barely had any coins to spare
and not a bill to give.
She tossed the coins she had
and told the man about his beautiful playing
and that if she had more coins
she wouldn't hesitate to give them to him.
And his smile was comforting
happy
purely joyous.
He said he wouldn't ask for more
because her thanks was all he wanted.
He then asked her for a hug
in which she didn't feel odd
he didn't feel odd
or uneasy to be around
and she couldn't pin point why she felt so soothing around this man.
So she hugged him
and they stayed there for a moment
letting the echoing notes stay in their minds
and as they pulled a part
his smile widened
when he saw the two stones draping from her neck.
He told her she was beautiful
and that her stones were so powerful.
He told her she wasn't just a beautiful person
but that she was truly beautiful.
And her throat caught
because he meant it whole heartedly
and she couldn't express anything more
as she left.
And as she left his notes rang out again
and she got back to her brother
they continued
and he asked her about the man
and she told him
about the man
with a beautiful soul. 

The 'Love' Bite

I remember seeing my grandmother's cat for the first time. 
Big Red.
What a scary name.
But she was so beautiful.  With thick orange fur that kissed her emerald eyes gently.  The way she strutted through the large wooden house with pride made me want her to love me.
So I wanted to pet her, love her, kiss her, hug her.
But when I asked my grandmother about the cat, she told me not to chase or bother her because she wasn't a friendly cat.
But I was young.
That isn't an excuse now, but I was just so curious.
Wanting an animal to love me.
So when my grandmother was in the garden I set out to find Red.
Once I found her in the kitchen I started running at her.
Of course she ran.
Into the living room.  I finally caught her though, feeling my tiny hands fold into her thick fur.
And then it was like a scene from jaws.
Her head turned sideways, her mouth seemed to unhinge, and she submerged her fangs  between my left eye and temple.
I dropped her.
Not from the pain, but from fear of what my grandmother would do.
I was scared she'd be angry.
I disobeyed her.
I just wanted to love the kitten.
So I sprinted upstairs into the bathroom with tears down my cheeks.
I looked in the mirror in horror.
Blood was gushing from my face, no matter how many tissues I used it wouldn't stop.
My grandmother knocked on the door after a while asking if I was alright.
I told her I would be out in a minute.
So me.
Thinking oh so cleverly.
Plastered tissue to the side of my face.
And walked out of the bathroom.
My grandmother of course instantly asked what happened, and I told her about Red.
She hugged me then.
Which startled me.
And she took me to the doctors.
I had to take pills to make sure it didn't get infected or anything.
And that was that.
It took weeks to heal.
But me and that cat...
We're on good terms now.
Sometimes if I'm lucky, she'll let me pet her.
Sometimes, if I'm really lucky, she'll lay in my lap.
She's a good cat.
I was just a bad child.

My Love For You

It is the act of not doing to save others happiness
that feels as though you are stabbing your own heart
but instead of falling into your grave
you live through the ever growing anguish you created.
So why, why harm someone you adore so ravenously
when the answer isn't as simple as you care.
It is done because my love for you goes beyond
anything I could possible imagine.
My love for you and your joy is something
that I don't even manifest for myself
because my love for you is indescribable.
Even if it seems as though I'm hurting you,
oh sweet,
If I act on anything I will bring sorrow to your heart
and you will live through it
as I live through my knife wound
and that,
is something I can not allow happen to you.
I apologise in ways you don't see
each apology runs down my face
and all I can do is let the dampness become
absorbed into my sleeves
as I wipe them away.
Because my love for you,
is something I will not let you fret about
I will not allow you to be desolate
in my hands
so I will not hold you
so you will be free.

James

The morning where the rain wasn't falling.
The air that didn't hold a tinge of guilt.
All came whirling when I looked at my reflection.
The splotchy skin.
The red eyes.
The way that hiccups still escaped my sobbing mouth.
But I looked into the mirror and saw my large forehead. How the thin, oily strands of hair clung around my ears. But in the cold green eyes, I saw something someone told me about.
I think the word was, adventitious.
I hadn't heard that word before he had said it. That's why it stuck.
He was holding me. We were arguing before he grabbed my wrist. The wrist that was attached to the hand I was going to slap him with. Because he told me I was 'Too damn adventitious.'
And I thought that was a bad thing. In his context, it was.
But to be a person to go with the flow of things...
That's a good character.
And as I was huffing, and he was fuming, his grip released and I started laughing.
It wasn't the tiny giggles that bubble out from a child's' throat when they find something cute. Oh no. It was the laughter that was so obnoxiously loud that startled both of us.
It sounds like an odd memory. And you may ask why I like it so much.
Because after I stopped laughing, his face froze.
And my breathing stopped.
I wasn't scared.
I was...
Adventitious.
Because I let him kiss me.
And then I let him kiss me again.
And again.
He held me then. His hands gripping my waist, pulling me closer as I laced my shaken hands through his silky brown hair.
I never felt so light until it happened.
We practically fell down the beach steps, crashing into the sand in a fit of the childish giggles.
James.

Seven months ago.
And here I stand in front of my mirror. Greasy brown hair and puffy eyes.

I dreamt of him.
Again.
It was the memory of us fighting again.
But this time I truly did slap him.
And he never spoke to me again.
But as he was rushing off in a fit of rage, he turned onto the road. Screaming at me.
"It's okay for control, Abbi. But don't always follow the way of life. Do something to manipulate it."
Because then he stands there with tears in his eyes.
He's trying to help.
And I see the way the light of the setting sun falls onto his side. How it reflects into his eyes and bloody Hell, he catches me out of breath.
And he steps forward.
Five steps from the sidewalk.
Four.
Three.

But the light on his side isn't from the deep reds of the sun.
It's his blood. Seeping through his shirt.
And he knew.

I woke up then. Before he could fall to the road.
That's how I woke up sobbing.
I think I was crying during the dream too.
I think I knew.

Seven months ago, my James died.
The James who taught me control, freedom and love.
My James. Who woke up at four in the morning, would jog all the way to my front yard (which was well over 10 miles) and bring me coffee so we could drink it and go for another run.
My James. Who showed me how to surf.
Who I punched in the eye because he was such a jack ass.
Who I kissed one thousand times because he was so sincere.

My James. Who was hit by a car while we were walking home after the best surf of the year.
Who never ran with me again.
Who never cried with me when my father passed away.
Or screamed with utter joy when my sister walked across her Ballet performance for the Black Swan.

My James. Who I loved so heartachingly. So wholefully.

So I stand in front of my mirror without his lips caressing my shoulder.
With my dirty hair and sullen eyes.

And I bring the cold water onto my face.

My body burning from the sadness revolting within me.

And I breathe.

Because James isn't breathing right now.

And I want to breathe for him.

Untitled

The damp curls were blown across her forehead, and her pale green eyes traced the waves outlines against the moon's illumination. You wouldn't be able to tell she was whispering, because the harsh wind knocked her words into the sea.  But she was.  She was calling to the large, sinking ship before her.  Her bloodied nails grasped the stone she lay on, her body beaten and torn from the crashing ocean.   The curls of her black locks twisted down her arms and down the nape of her neck as though clockwork.  The thick hair tangled around the long silver chain around her neck.  She gripped the cool silver charm, but her silent cries never ceased.  The howling wind never breathed for a pause.  But here she lay, in the moonlight on a spring storm.   The rain slashed her face, and became anchors to the boat.  With each drop the boat filled.  With each drop, the men on the ship were drowning.  Her blood soaked hands came to her face, not knowing if she was wiping more than just rain away.  But there she clung, with thick grey clouds rolling above her.  With the pitch sea churning beneath.  Her strangled cries halted.  Her throat swelling and choking against the salt water.  Her mind flashed to the man in the ship- the captain's left hand man.  His thick blond hair tousled against his forehead, with the bright sun's rays behind him.  His laughter filled her heart, and the way his eyes grew crinkles when he smiled tugged at her stomach.  
A large wave crashed against her head, a sudden pulse against the jagged silver stone sent her into the sea. 
But she was still breathing.  Better now that she was submerged.  She inhaled the ocean and kissed the broken skin of her hands.  
She could see the ship's stern from here.  Her throat became tangled in screams.  She swam forward with exceptional strength, to find none of the glass paneling would open.  Her dark tangles enveloped her waist as she peered in through the  pot hole.  She could see the deep red velvet swiped couch, and water-logged bookshelf.  The lantern was out, reflecting no light throughout the hollow room.  Her eyes narrowed as she gripped the edge of the window, looking down in to the endless sea below.  Darkness consumed her below.  It would consume the brave men who ventured to this part of the sea.  She rose her eyes to meet clouded, glassy eyes floating before her.  His lips were pale and slightly parted, with high cheekbones and soaked brown hair.  A scream filled her head, she flung back away from the window, holding her ever leaving sanity with each thump of her heart.  The body drifted up into the ceiling, and she forced herself against the window with her entire strength.  It broke inward, sending her tumbling into the room.  As she looked up to where the body had drifted, his fitted body seemed to grab the wooden paneling above.  But his other hand seemed to be outstretched to her.  Her stomach twisted uneasily, and she moved her gaze away from the man.  She swam to the large wooden dual doors across from the bookshelf, and looked both ways down the hallway.  To her left was a stairway that most likely led to the top of the ship, whereas to her right there were numerous wooden doors.  Her left.  She swam quickly to the the top, only to find the ship wasn't completely submerged yet.  She was struggling immensely to get onto the deck, until a flash of movement caught her eyes. There, lying on the bow, with blond damp hair plastered to his neck was the man.  Water coated his body, and his loose white shirt was clinging to his chest.  A rage filled inside her body.  This ship was not meant to go down.  This crew was not meant to suffer. 
His eyelids fluttered for a moment, and his deep brown eyes met her own.  And in that moment, she stopped struggling to get up.  Her hands lay flat against the wood as she watched him helplessly.  His pale pink lips moved ever so slightly, his eyes never leaving hers.  She tried pulling herself up again, but his mouth formed a heartwarming smile. He lifted his hand from the thick level of water beginning to fill the top deck, and he coughed up the rain water that was filling his mouth.  He turned onto his stomach abruptly, half of his face was in the water as he stared at her.   His eyes fell to her neck, and he reached into his pocket.  The girl's green eyes swept over the small silver charm that he now held.  She could barely see the shape of it, but she knew what it was.  It was a fishing hook.  The same fishing hook.  This time, as she wiped at her eyes she knew most of the water tapered to her face were from the tears she held from her chest.  As the water level grew deeper, she tried pulling herself onto the deck.  Her arms were weak, but with help from a crashing wave, she finally lay on the deck with him.  His eyes widened curiously as she moved towards him.  .  Finally, once she was in reach of him, he pulled her tightly against her chest.

The rain pounded around them, and another large wave crashed on top of them, but he gripped onto her.  He was giving her hope.  They lay there, as the storm was raging, and as the ship was sinking.  The waves kept crashing angrily against the ship, until with a final battle it crumbled a part.  His cry filled her ears as she was knocked away from him.  Her hand was cut from the hook he was holding, but she felt nothing from it.  She only felt the fear that was gnawing at her mind.  That was gnawing at her thoughts. 

The light’s rays were bouncing off his hair as though he were an angel.  And she stayed hidden there, watching this odd man throwing a thin string into the water and pulling it back out.  Curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she swam towards him.  But the thing he was throwing out caught her and she was so surprised, that she yelped.  His head swivelled towards her, but before he could see her, she was pulling the thing down with her.  In a safe location she pulled the metal spike out of her, and swearing as the water around her became tinged with scarlet. She rose back up to give the sharp-pointed hook back to him, but when she breathed in the air, he was gone.

She saw his head floating on the surface of the black water, and she pushed through the broken pieces of wood to get to him.  As she grew closer, she saw a steady stream of blood falling from his skull.

She waited there. For a while.  She wanted to return it. She didn’t want to steal it.  So she waited until the sun went down.  And then the next day. And the next.  She would sit on the rock he was casting from, and pretend to be doing what he was doing.  Bu she was using stones.  Throwing them against the flat water, breaking it into a thousand cracks, and swimming in after it only to do that again, and again. 

She turned him over, his lovely russet eyes blinking at her.  A choke rose in her throat as she collapsed into his chest.  His hand fell to her back, steadying her.

Then she heard a voice. It was a timid voice at first.  Greeting her carefully.  And when she turned, she was met with his face.  A slim face with a firm jaw.  But it wasn’t fear or anger in his face. No, it was amusement.  He moved towards her steadily, and he reached out to shake her hand.  Of course, she thought he was trying to grab her so she leaped into the water, only to come up to the surface to see a plastered grin on his face as he wiped off water from his neck.  Then she heard his chuckling.

She heard his chuckling now, too.  She could hear it through the rain.  And the waves.  And her heartbeat.

She came up to him slowly, reaching out to give him the hook.  But he shook his head and showed another one. He said they were a pair, and that it was okay to lose one. She turned her head, confused.  Thinking if it was a pair, they should always be together.  But at those words he smiled again, and crouched closer to the water. Closer to her face. No, he said. If something is truly a pair, it doesn’t matter where one of the two goes. If they’re paired, then they have a connection that cannot be seen.  It’s like their secret.

He showed her the silver hook again, trying to force it into her palm.  He was choking against the salt.

She met him every evening.  He would fish and she would watch. They spoke about many things.  They spoke about nothing. And every time, before he left, he would turn his head to her ever so slightly and the sun would catch his eyes, turning them into flame.  And he would grin.  A stupid half-grin that never ceased to make her smile too.  It never stopped making her feel warmth in her chest.

The moon’s light casted into his eyes, making them a soft, clear brown.  And the corner of his mouth lifted. Ever so slightly.

He spoke about how ships were his life- just as the sea were hers. He never probed about her. He just knew. And every evening, he would walk away from the rocks into the forest behind and disappear into the blackness. Just as she would disappear into the ocean in front of them, becoming cloaked by the blue.

He opened his mouth, having it fill with water.  She pulled him up onto a flat broken board, holding him up onto it. The sail broken off, and the post screamed under its weight, crashing on to their bodies. 

She found a thin chain in the sand one day.  And she laced the hook through it.  She didn’t care when it nicked her skin, because it was his.  She didn’t have to ask him about his, because she always saw the outline of it in his pocket. She once reached for it.  She wanted to compare them. But he grabbed her wrist gently. And instead he brought his mouth to hers.

She was dizzy, tumbling under the waves, and she saw his body sinking under.

She asked him what it was.

Her head howled in pain as she swam lethargically towards him.

“Love.”

Bubbled cries filled the sea around her as she tried grabbing his arms.

She asked what love was.

Tiny air bubbles left his mouth as he was being consumed by the ocean.

“Love, is when a pair can be on opposite sides of the Earth, but still have a tiny, brilliant string that ties their souls together in a way that is almost impossible.”

Her arms flailed, panicking to catch him.

Her face lit up.  She asked if that was why the hooks could be separated.

His weight dragged her deeper, an aura of scarlet coating around them.

“Yes,” He kissed her, “And that’s why we can leave every day and come back again. Because of love. We will always have that in us. It’ll be hidden sometimes. Sometimes it’ll seem broken or lost, but know that it is always there.”

Darkness was surrounding them.

He jumped into the water and kicked around with her until the sun set. But he stayed that night. They kept talking about love. She kept asking about love. She felt as though something inside was swelling with such an intense joy, as though such a strong flame could not be drowned by water.

She gripped his hand, and looked at the top of the ocean. From below it seemed peaceful. Iron filled her mouth, and she began choking.  She clung onto him tighter. Not wanting to let go.

She looked at him. Truly looked at him. He pointed to the ship he would be on soon. It was stunning. Shiny deep wooden oak that was finely cut. Large white sails that were wrapped up tightly. And a stunning wooden sculpture of a woman with long tousled hair and slender arms holding onto the bow. Her head turned up to him, her face gleaming. He gripped her hand thoughtfully and brought each of her fingers to his lips.  She looked solemnly to the giant rippling mirror before them.

She thrashed in the water, trying to pull him up.

He brought her close to his chest and brought his mouth her ear.

Her jaw clenched angrily with her weakness.

“It’s okay to let go.”

She stopped.

His voice was hushed.

She stared at the man before her.  His once brown eyes were now glossy and pale.  She closed his eyes gently. His body was lax in her grip. And his pale mouth was parted.

“I know it’s scary.”

She brought her mouth to his. Taking in the last bit of him she would ever have again.

“But that’s because sometimes, something needs to be scary for you to do it.”

She looked at his clenched hand, and brought her own to her chain.

“Because then it gets easier.”

Her fingers began relaxing.

“And you get stronger.”

His body was falling.
“But I promise you, it gets better.”

She stayed floating there. In the darkest part of the water, watching him disappear.  She stayed there. For a while. And eventually rose back up to the surface. Most of the ship was gone now, and the rain had become a drizzle. She swam slowly. Away from the ship. Away from the wreckage. And she waited as the sun came up. It took a long time for her to stop shaking, but she never let go of the hook on her chain.

She didn’t take the hook in his hand. She knew she didn’t have to.

She climbed up onto a rock by the shore where he fished.

She stared in to a small pool. And she saw her green eyes and dark hair. But she didn’t look at her eyes. She looked at her mouth.

She inhaled deeply, feeling the rhythm of her heart increasing.

“Love.”