The Ocean Created Us.

You were crying, bawling your eyes out, biting your lip to keep the sobs in. I was on a dare to skinny dip in the ocean while it was still daylight.
I was sidetracked from the start though, from the minute I saw you sitting there, crying. A heartbreaking sight, no doubt about it.

The sand around you and the way you had your knees pulled to your chest and your eyes watching each and every wave hit the shore made you seem like an angel. I don’t know why it did, but it did, and I think that’s why I stopped short of my dare, pulled my pants back on and drifted to your saddened side.

My feet and chest were bare and you seemed too absorbed by your tears and the waves to notice my presence, so I was loud about sitting down beside you. You didn’t even blink at the noise I made as I hit the sand at your side.

“No, I’m not okay. No, I don’t want to talk about it. No, I don’t want a ride home and no, I will not sleep with you,” you spoke quietly as the tears continued to stream.

“I’m still going to sit here until you stop crying anyway.”

You continued crying for a full thirty-seven minutes and fourteen seconds; I counted while I watched the waves.
After you wiped a hand across your red face, you turned to me.

“I’m done crying, you can leave now.”
Your voice was quiet, as if you didn’t want to break the serenity the waves had created between us.
“No, now you’re going to tell me what happened, so that I can make it better.”
“I could get up and leave, you know that right?” you asked.
You still hadn’t looked me in the eyes.
“You probably won’t. What happened?” I made my voice smooth, softer than it had been, so that you wouldn’t leave me. Because you weren’t like everyone else, you didn’t like the whole mystery I created, like others usually did. You thought I was being a douche and knew that you didn’t have to stick around, so I stopped being a douche.

You shrugged and rested your head on your knees. Your blonde hair was close to falling in your eyes, but it stopped just short. It was pretty, and it contrasted with your still watery brown eyes perfectly.
You were quiet for four minutes and twenty-six seconds- I was counting again- before you spoke.

“You know what hurts? Being dumped. But not just being dumped, it’s being dumped when you had something with someone. Had something real, something that would lead to something. Something with promise. I had that something. Or I thought I did. I guess that’s why it hurts, he didn’t feel the same.”
You went silent again, and I only got two a minute and forty-three seconds before you spoke again.
“Have you ever felt like that?”
I’d actually thought you’d forgotten about me being there, so it shocked me and I forgot to answer for a little while.

“No, not really. Not many people stick around long enough to make an impact like that. Or maybe I don’t let them stay around long enough.”

You were quiet. I was getting used to it; used to hearing the waves crash and our breathing mesh together into one.

“You should, though. Because even though it hurts like a bastard when it’s over, it’s worth it. And someday, someday it won’t be over because you’ll live with that person and be happy forever. And forever is a long time, y’know?”
You may have asked a question, but you didn’t want an answer, I knew it, I was understanding you already.

It was my turn to be quiet, for the first time in a long time, I was thinking about my words before I spit them out. Too concentrated on my words, I didn’t have time to count how long I was quiet. I hoped you weren’t either, because I know it was a long time.

“To be with someone forever, you have to trust them. Trusting someone that much is hard, it’s really hard and most people don’t deserve that kind of trust, because what have they done to earn it? Muttered three little words after sex, when you’re half passed out? Maybe they held your hair after you puked your guts up after a party, or maybe they lied for you, something. Something that you think gives them the right for your trust, but it doesn’t. Stuff like that doesn’t happen. One little thing can’t make you trust a person.”

For the first time in the hour or so that I’d been by your side, you turned to look at me and your brown eyes captured mine.
“Are you always this pessimistic?”
There was a smile playing in those pooled eyes of yours, I remember clearly. I also remember being confused at first, and then you laughing at me.
“On certain subjects, I suppose I am,” I said, grinning.
“We should change that.”
“Oh, we should?”

We were quiet for two minutes and however many seconds. For the first time, I wasn’t focused on the time spent in silence, I was studying you.
“I’m Quinn,” you spoke quietly, happily.
“Jepha.”
“We should get to know each other.”

The ocean made you beautiful.
Technically, more beautiful.
It made your brown eyes glisten, it made your body shine, it made you and me perfect, it made us last forever, and it made me trust you in ways I hadn’t before.
The ocean created what we had, I am forever grateful toward it.