The End of Time
The light touched your face in just that way that it had that first day when I'd seen you. Today though, it seemed as though the sun were saying its final goodbyes, although I knew it would be with you wherever you went.
That day the sun had been setting just like this, over the ocean. I'd been ready to head home for the day, start my homework, and leave my weekend of joy and carelessness behind. The sea had looked especially blue that day, and with the sun glinting off it such as it had been then, I'd wondered if my eyes had been playing tricks on me when I'd seen a figure emerging from its watery depths, soaked and panting, sandy blond hair falling in front of your face, doubled over, your hands resting on your knees because you were so exhausted. That first day when you'd looked up and seen me, I'd been frozen to the spot when your eyes met mine. And in that moment, when you smiled, time seemed to stop and there was only you and me. The sun was brushing softly against your face, much as it was now, only there was a more soothing quality to it then, when there'd been forever for just you and me, and the sun only began to say hello, as if there was all the time in the world for that and nothing mattered more than just seeing you.
When you crossed that distance and came to stand beside me, I couldn't force my eyes away from your face. Your eyes held mine, the sun's last rays burning across the sky.
I remember this moment with pure bliss now, as I stare up into your eyes once again. The smile is now a gentle farewell, full of sadness and memories of our summers together. The sun caresses your face with the touch of finality, its own rays dying out for the night. I wasn't sure if they would ever again spread light and warmth to my earth.
My eyes beg you not to go, although I know it will happen anyway. My hair is blowing in the gentle breeze; same as yours. I look at you intently, drinking in as much of you as I can while you're still here. I'd run out here to the beach barefoot, sprinting the whole way. I'd not even bothered to put my hair up. My green eyes were locked intently with your deep blue ones, trying to win the mental battle.
You looked torn. You needed to leave, of that I was sure, and so were you. It was necessary, you'd said. But you couldn't tell me why.
"Please," I whispered, my voice cracking on just that one word. It came out almost silent, though I knew you heard it. "Please. If you love me."
You looked so sad at that moment that I couldn't bear it a moment longer. It was horrible you had to leave; my last memory of you wouldn't be anything less than perfect. I knew I'd played unfair, and I hated myself for it. "You know I love you," you murmured. "I just can't do this to you."
"You don't have to go." I had no idea how my face looked, but my emotions were most likely all over my face, as usual. Tears welled up in my eyes. No, I couldn't cry. I couldn't let it upset you. You never liked it when I cried.
You once again made the move; you closed the space between us. Your arms wrapped around me, I felt safe. I wanted it to last forever, but all too soon you pulled away. You kissed me once on the forehead in goodbye; it was soft, sorrowful, but sweet.
Then, slowly, you pulled away from me. You took me in one last time: auburn hair in soft curls, a few freckles sprinkled across my nose, green eyes watching you intently. I took you in once again, your sandy blond hair, your deep blue eyes, gentle and full of emotion.
You backed away, me trying to savor the moment as much as I could. Then I watched you walk down the dock, away from me, heart throbbing painfully, and saw you board your own ship and sail away across the gorgeous blue water, by your own power of rowing. I watched until your small rowboat disappeared over the horizon and long afterwards, into the darkness of night. Hours and hours, I stood there all alone, hoping you'd change your mind and come back. It felt like forever, I stood there, until I lost consciousness. I was hoping it'd be sooner, that it'd ease the pain of your departure; it didn't. The sand rose to my knees, then to my face. It was a long time before I noticed that the wet sand under my head was from tears, not the ocean. But I knew that I'd never be able to judge time correctly after this. It was the end of the world. The end of time.
It was the first time you left me.
That was the prologue, I know it's short. So I'd just like to know what you all think, and whether it's worth continuing to post more on here? I've already written more, and upon request will post it on here.
Thanks, and please review!