Across the sea was an island. And on this island was a man. Every night this lone man walked to the edge of the shore and watched his distorted reflection staring back. With the stars encompassing his figure and the moon smiling down like an old forgotten friend, he smiled. The figure smiled back. He could still remember the taste of that night air when he finally returned to this island... with her. Almost a year had passed but the memory was still a present thrill. One minute he's staring at the water, the next he was sailing away from the mainland, hand in hand with the woman that changed his ever existence, body and soul alike. The night smelled like salt and lavender. The night smelled like her. She once told him that lavender meant devotion. All he remembered about lavender was the way it invoked their romance. How it reminded him of her elegance, her grace, her delicateness. She, like these precious purple flowers, was devoted to him and would hold on until the very end.
They sit and discuss future adventures as they sip their lemon and honey based steaming tea. They share a scone that's lightly dusted with a soft white powdered sugar. With a smile, he slowly kisses away the remaining powder on her upper lip. "We'll parasail our way to Japan, climb the mountains in Peru, join forces in Uzbekistan and say our prayers at Auschwitz. We'll camp out in the trees in the rainforest, and watch the falling water turn into mist in Venezuela." "We'll stay on this island until we pass into old age. Who are we fooling?" "This place is not our future, it's just temporary. Just for now." "Well then, let's leave tonight. Get away for awhile, breath in new air." "I can't leave tonight, it's too soon. We don't have anything planned." "You were never really a planner. I have to leave. If I don't go tonight, I never will. I hope you'll understand." As she walked out of the tiny cafe, he watched the sweet lavender air follow her, slowly circling back as if to entice him into following. "I will let her go, I must let go," he thought. Because he knew he couldn't leave this island. Not again. And that is what he did, despite the aching pain that infested his heart. He took her to the boat and watched her sail away into the night, as the lavender scent gradually dispersed into the air. "I will wait for you, in this very spot. Every night I will stand here and wait. All I will ever want is to see your face again."
Sweet dreams,
R.Dearlove
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