Arms of Her Dreams

She walked across the beach slowly, barefeet, with the wet sand oozing in between her toes. It was drizzling and it drove most of the people to shelter. But she kept on walking with her eyes staring at the ocean and its waves with a blank semblance slightly tinted with pain. The waters crashed ashore and kissed her feet gently, only to retrieve itself back to where it belonged, like an impossible dream shattered to dust by the carelessness of truth. Dreams should remain where they belong, she thought, in the virtuality, where they offer no hope to anyone.

She could feel him, his presence, in every drop that fell on her face, in the wind that filled her hair with a toxic aroma, in every wave that swept her footsteps away into a breath of oblivion. The rain began to pour down hard by then. She felt herself drift away by the sound of the crashing tempest that she convinced herself was his voice calling out to her, softly, faintly, with teary cracks around the edges that tore her soul to shreds. But she didn’t cry, as she had shed enough tears already—enough to numb her eyes, then her ears, her skin and eventually all her senses.


She felt the touch of his hands, clasped to hers, separated only by a watery layer of death in between their palms. He walked along with her, tight-lipped in silence, with a weight as that of a memory. The rain strengthened, and so did the wind, and the waves, and his grip. Her mind swayed along with his force, his gravity, dazing itself to embrace the thought of reunion. He held her hand and showed her a new direction, with promises in heart of a newer world. A world less grievous and stained; a world simpler and happier.


It was his fault why her life was empty and bare; his fault why she forgot how to dream for the stars; his fault why that tiny flicker of happiness that smothered itself to nothing but smoke, could never light itself back again. He took back everything that he ever gave her, leaving her broken, spinning in the dark, without so much as even a goodbye.


She held his hand and walked into the ocean, and kept on walking. Into the depths. Into the dreams. Into his arms.




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