We both stand, listening to the sea that lies in front of us as the angry waves of a rising tide crash into the rocks, hundreds of tiny, minuscule drops of salty water bouncing back off of them and flying in every direction, as unpredictable as ever. A lot of the drops land on us, the cool spray refreshing our skin under the hot sun. We talk about a lot of things, but nothing particularly memorable. In fact, all either of us care to remember is that we spend most of the seaside conversation is the way the other laughs and the small changes in our voices when we're smiling (or trying not to).
And no thoughts of impending doom, no amount of miles, no reminders of broken hearts, no pictures of old times or voice recordings can make a difference, not when you bring those moments back to mind. Nothing matters when I remember us, none of it.
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