Sitting alone surrounded by the crashing waves on a rocky groyne reaching into the sea. Far away from the world. The sun shining on her face. Leaning back, eyes closed and breathing in the promises of the world, she was exactly where she wanted to be. A scent passes and lingers under her nose, followed by an uncontrollable need to know who it belongs to forming inside her lungs. The search in her mind begins, drawing far back through places and events, weddings and holidays, journeys to foreign lands, and far fetched imaginary deaths. Luscious dreams of familiar touches. The power of a smell, of a butterfly-chaotic overwhelming sense of loss and happiness. And love. Of moving onwards. Of moving upwards.
She knew that his hand wouldn't brush against hers again. She knew the sound of the waves would overpower her need to turn and see him leave. She knew she was happy. She was exactly where she wanted to be.
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