The story so far:
The hot tears overflowed and poured down my cold skin, bringing me back to my present state.
I'd replayed this scenario over and over, trying desperately to put myself back on a level of control which I had lost the second I'd given her my soul. I stared out into the endless ocean, reached down and grabbed a clump of damp sand with both fists sqeezing until my hands shook from rage and lack of energy. It had all slowly and painfully been leaking out of my eyes, all for this woman who didn't even deserve that title anymore.
How could someone who I'd spent endless hours loving, learning, and worshiping been capable of ripping her hand into my flesh to tear out my heart? This was an understatement.
An incredible weight hovered over me, hung around my neck and pounded at the open wound with piercing force. I closed my eyes only to be confronted by the burnt image of her face on the walls of my insides. I opened them again and faced the waves, angry like me, liquid like me.
I felt as though I'd been dumped in a bottomless pool in the middle of the ocean and my legs were to tired to try to function for me.
The sun began to slowly make its descent and I rose, unvoluntarily as if being pushed by an invisible force. My feet dragged through the sand leading me into the waves and I stood there, halfway submerged in salt water, slowly sinking into the earth. I looked at the sun. A glow like I'd never seen before warming my face. I took a deep breath and as I let it out I allowed the salt and light to try and cure my wounds.
The amazing feel of the elements aligned at this very moment, gently waking each of my senses to remind me that i was still alive was nothing less than overwhelming.
For a moment, I had reminded me of my present self. For a moment, I thought of me, still bleeding, still hurting, but here, for me.