Sitting here, trying to relax, trying to forget, impossible. The sea is endless it seems, moving in and out from the shore, the sand alternatively wet and dry, as thoughts of you also drift in and out of my mind.
The entire rinse and repeat cylindrical process describes our relationship. Once a fertile dampened shore with possibility is now a dry empty space, almost devoid of hope.
I still come to this place, still harbor the dreams we once shared, even to the point of self destruction, but still compelled to return. It must be that all hope has not dwindled, that there may be still a chance. The waves do continue to roll in.