Goodbye MS
08/31/2005 08:03 p.m.
It was more beautiful than I remember, for time has a tendency to cause the colors to fade, and eventually darken into nothing the memories of all we held so dear, and all we never held dear. Nothing was perfect, except maybe you, but that was what made it so perfect.

You nudged me with your elbow and then ran through the white sand filled with laughter. I followed behind you, slowly, trying not to laugh so I could run faster, and spitting out the sand that flew up from your feet into my face as you ran. I could feel the sun starting to burn my skin as I ran and finally, tripping through the sand, I fell. By the time I rolled over onto my back you were already there to help me back up, trying to keep the laughter in.

As the tide rolled in we sat and watched our pathetic little sand castle wash away slowly with each passing lap, trying to use our feet as a dam to protect it just long enough to take a picture, a picture that would capture only the final grains washing back into nothing. We laughed at our little hurricane that destroyed our beautiful sandcastle and everything inside it. "I guess now we should rebuild somewhere a little more north." And so we did. But our sandcastles became further and further away from each other, with each one destroyed we'd start again even further away to try again. It wasn't long before I couldn't even make out you or your castles anymore over the horizon of sand. Still, when the storms would move in and destroy another castle, I could almost make out your laughter carried by the wind from wherever your sandcastle was.

After time we began to look for each other again and even planned to see the site of our first sandcastle. But, as the memory of that place faded slowly from my mind, so it faded from my existence. Just as we had began to set out on that journey I awoke from my dream, and it was gone.


My heart and thoughts are with you now. You were home once, and always.
I am currently Empty
I am listening to Walk on Vanity Ruins by Akira Yamaoka