Moving On

Even though all she had done was to be the one to call it off when they both knew it was over already, the ending felt worse.


Yet, she still went to work the next day, trying to pretend like nothing had happened. She somehow got through the school day and got all her students to their buses at 2:10.


She went to her truck, grabbed her beach bag, threw on her bikini, and drove to the most secluded beach in the area.


She sat on her blanket, staring out at the ocean, alternately crying and then feeling strong. The waves crashing and soothing her broken heart. The vastness of the ocean making her realize how small she was in the grand scheme of things and how small her problems were. And then, in the next moment, she would feel alone and hurt.


Even though it was the quietest beach in the area, there were still some people around. Mostly young Marines who would try to come flirt with her. She was her hottest self back then, long blonde hair, perfect figure, tiny bikini.


She shot each one down with a comment ruder than the one she'd used on the last guy.


Until he came along. He had the palest blue eyes she'd ever seen, along with hair so blonde it was almost white. It was obvious from his build that he was a Marine, too. Oh, the muscles on him...


He greeted her with a slow smile and approached as if she would break if he got too close. He said, "You look like you could use someone to talk to."


She angrily retorted that she just wanted to be left alone. But, he just shook his head and said, "I think you need to talk and I have the time to listen. Just take a walk with me, that's all I ask."


And, he extended his hand to help her up and held it out there as she stared at him, internally debating, for a few minutes.


It was his patience that won her over, continuing to hold out his hand and not otherwise pressing her. She still doesn't know why she decided to go with him.


She put her hand in his and they walked along the shore. She poured her heart out to him, crying a little. He listened.


He helped her gather up her things and walked her back to her truck. As she put her hand on the door to go, she caught sight of her naked ring finger and started to tear up again.


He caught her chin in his hand and turned her face to look at him and said, "You'll find someone so much better. Someone who will make this guy seem like the loser he is for letting you go." And then he asked her to meet him again the next night at the beach.


She did meet him the next night, despite some reservations. She went because it felt better than staying home and crying alone. She went because she secretly hoped that X would call while she was gone and her roommate could tell him she was out on a date. She went because she wanted to feel normal again.


He was there waiting for her, with a blanket spread out on the sand and a bottle of wine open. They talked until nightfall.


And then he pulled her to her feet, hummed an unidentifiable tune, and danced with her on the sand, in the moonlight.


And she began to have hope again. That her life wasn't over because her first true love had ended. That there were other men out there, ones who would love her, too.


She never saw him again after that. But, he served his purpose in her life: to give her the strength to move on.


This post was originally published in a slightly different form on 4/7/10. *Waves hi to the 1/4 of my current readers who were with me back then. Love you all*

When that post was published, I was asked why I never saw him again.  You can read that HERE.

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If you missed any of the story of my past, where yes, I talk about myself in the third person, you can check out these links to get caught up:

10 Days After the Hurricane
Was It a Big Mistake?
A Romance Grows
And Then He Left Her
She Moves for Him
The Waiting Game
The Engagement
The Year It All Goes Wrong
The Break
The Worst Thing She Ever Did
Limbo
We She Next Sees Him
Calling It Off