- Books, Literature, and Writing
The coast again
I end up here on the coast again. My mind wondered so far that my truck was forced to follow and here I sit. The sound of the waves cresting, the gulls cry above my head and suddenly I realize that I feel no better. I am always led here by the thought of seeing you. Somehow these waves are the only thing that drowns my own thoughts. I’m mesmerized by the constant rolling of the water and my mind rests on thoughts of you. Questioning why I keep this up would only render me more confused and angry, so I let these thoughts flow. Besides, I get a sick comfort in thinking that maybe you’re here too watching me torture myself with thoughts of you. What was so brief, and will remain so, creates a deep void wider and sadder than the very ocean crying before me. I think that’s why I come here. I relate to the oceans’ never-ending, chaotic scream of regret that begs for no one to listen. I’m listening and I come to scream back. In the midst of screaming, your name echo’s in the wind that is encouraging not only the pain of the ocean by producing waves, but also my own by producing a flood of tears. The laughter of the clouds above brew a storm that cackles because I cry for my own apathy. There is no comfort in the thunder because it only scorns me for what I did. I know I should just put it in drive, leave this place, and live with my mistakes. But why? I will just be back again. When thinking of you gets too intense I’ll return. I am living with that mistake but while I do…I’ll be here…thinking of you.