I run down to the same beach we walked but there is no longer a magical pulse in the footprints we left and the flowers have bloomed this year but they are different. Even the winding driveway down to your house doesn’t seem nearly as crooked. I’m a year older. I’m a year sadder. I’m a year happier.

I always reach the sandy lot and the boulders but I never set foot on the sand we danced on. The sand we kissed on. The we stood on when I told you I loved you. I didn’t mean it then, but I promise you I mean it now.

Being on this beach is opening a door to a memory and erasing you from it. Being here feels like taking everything back. It breaks my heart but I slide into a slump on the ground anyway. Maybe if I sit here and stare into the unbreaking horizon long enough, you’ll appear by my side. And every time I look over, I swear to god it’s glowing.