I had been here before. I’d been here with you. On this cliff, this ocean, with its rocking waves crashing against the shore. And my heart beating so fast you would think I would die, thumping against my chest so hard that you would think it would explode. And the tears that I knew would come started streaming down my face, mixing with the salty spray that hit me from straight ahead.
Why had I come? I had come to find out something, to find out who I am.
And so I stood and looked, my feet toppling at the edge, the waves crashing below me, ominous in the darkening evening. The black slowly replacing the light that used to be here: the green grass going; the white frothiness of the sea fading from my sight.
And soon it would be night.
I closed my eyes and dreamed. I remembered the beach where we took the kids for donkey rides. I remembered your smile beaming its way across your face as you opened your mouth for the first time and opened my heart. I remembered the feeling of getting the job that thrilled me, and how you greeted me with opened arms and summer kisses. I remembered the alcohol that failed me, being trapped by the warm feeling in a glass, and my repeated search to find that warmth once more in every drop. I remembered our rows and the scared look on the faces of children.
It had been a while since I had seen you smile.
My eyes reopened. Gone now was all the light. All I had was my non-sight: the tease of the spray thrown against my face; the roar of the waves crashing against the rocks; the fishy smell of the ocean; the taste.
I was on the edge.
Why had I come? To change the lives of the ones I loved.
The ones I loved.
I closed my eyes.
The cold wind blew salty spray against my face. I saw your smile.
