Time is fleeting. Our hours are beautiful, but limited. Each second spent together is glorious, but brings us ever closer to having to part ways once again. And each time, I find myself holding your hand just a little bit tighter. Hoping that maybe, such a mere action could slow time down or stop it altogether, and allow us another second, minute, hour.
It is at this place, where time seems to oblige and do so. Where the sand shimmers and the water sparkles. Where the late afternoon sunshine pours out of the clear, lapis-blue sky like a fluid stream of liquid silk and warms our faces. Everything seems to stand still here, except for us and the calming, hypnotic sound of the warm waves lapping against the pale pink shore.
You lace your fingers through mine in this magical, iridescent world and even the balmy summer air, surrounded by thousands of miles of ocean, smells fresher and sweeter. I luxuriate in your salt-laced touch as I lean into you and look out at the stretch of sea sparkling like a sheet of sapphire so vivid that no jewel can ever hope to compare, and no magniloquent language can ever do justice. You place the softest of kisses on the top of my head, smiling into my hair, and it is then, when time – no matter how fleeting – can never take the seconds of my beating heart away from yours.
Till we meet again, beautiful stranger. I’ll miss you.