In the silence of the room, she put her head down and wept. For a while, it seemed like the sea smells were going to be hers forever, with the shells and the winds and the perpetual blue of the waters and the skies. And then her own guilt racked her, she let go of everything that was hers till then, which she had lost, but which would have been hers once again, had she just been courageous enough to forgive herself. And she thought about all those times that she had thought she was there, almost or never quite far away, just somewhere close by, lingering around the memories and the distant songs- ‘the growing together only to split up’… it crushed her, but did she have an excuse? Did she look back with just sadness tugging at her heart, or did she even dare to smile at them? To embrace what was rightfully hers? She only remembered what she wrote then: ‘for today, for everything I destroyed for a future that may be ours.’
the writing on the wall is always blurred.