Seashore, Rachel Bleue
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It was one of those random, unplanned encounters. How long had it been since I’d seen him? Ten years? I think so, give or take. After the awkward “hello,” my first thought was that while I hadn’t seen him in a decade, those eyes, which I had longed for all this time—I had carried them within me. And now, on this sunny spring morning, there they were again.
We were different people. How could we not be? The storms and hardships we had endured had shaped our lives in different ways. But despite our differences, we always chose to meet at this same seashore. We had discussed it in the past and concluded that this place embodied our longing for life—without past, without future, only in the unspoken Now.