A car door slams. I have been found. I drag my sleeves across my wet face. I say goodbye to the lover's moon. My love, my salvation, my shelter in a storm has always been the beach. And now, I must leave it. Promises of visits to it are made, but I know they will be broken. This is it. I pull handfuls of sand into my pockets and breathe deep. Would that I could hold my breath forever. I would always have the peace I had moments ago.
I turn my back on my lover. It cannot come with me and I cannot stay. I know that. I cannot look back. I am in a fragile state. I think frantically of getting jobs here and splitting from my family so that I can stay here, beside my beloved beach. How many jobs would it take? Three? Four? I could do it. I'd live downtown close to the beach. The boys could come for the summer. We'd go to the beach. I am grasping at straws. I quell the frantic child in me. I grow up. I say goodbye. I wave. No looking back. Just gentle saltwater tears.