Prose: Sunsets.

I remember that day so clearly.

The day we rushed to catch the setting sun as we drove along windy mountain roads up to the highest peak where the fading light would hit perfectly against the backdrop of the ocean waves as the smell of saltwater filled our lungs. You thought it would be a marvelous way to end our little weekend away from the hustle and bustle of the city. I remember laughing at the way you adamantly insisted that we would and could “absolutely-positively” make it in time to watch the sunset because it would be “the most romantic thing in the world”.

But, despite our best efforts, the sun beat us to it.

You can hardly fault the sun though. Who could ever when there was still so much beauty to be seen while the bright oranges and reds melted away into the blue, giving way to the glimmering starlight that washed over us.

I relive that day quite often when I’m alone in the dark and when my heart is heavy with the burden of loneliness weighing it down. It is in those moments where I am the weakest, wishing that it would be possible to turn back the hands of time and experience it all again.

But then I remember, much like the sunset, our love and our time together was fleeting at best. When we look back on this, we will remember how we were once empty canvases just waiting to capture the perfect sunset. We will remember how we cherished our short, brief time together and revel in all of its bright, golden glory. And although we are now surrounded by darkness and starlight, we will always remember how we were once beautiful too; we will wait for the sun to rise again and fill our hollow bones with something new.

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