Whispers of the Tide, Echoes of You

The salt air clings to my skin like a secret shared between the sea and me. I crouch by the water's edge, watching the turquoise waves fracture into diamonds against the jagged rocks. My fingers dip into the cool current, seeking a grounding rhythm that matches the steady thrum of my own heart.

In the city, life is a cacophony of neon lights and hurried breaths—a constant pulse that leaves me feeling like a ghost in my own skin. But here, under the vast expanse of blue, the noise dissolves into a gentle hum. I find myself thinking of you, not as a memory but as a lingering warmth. It’s the way your hand felt against mine over coffee on a rain-slicked Tuesday, or how your eyes seemed to hold the depth of an evening tide.

I trace patterns in the wet sand, imagining your name written there before the water claims it. There is something healing in this solitude, a soft invitation for my spirit to exhale. Yet, as I lean forward, letting the foam kiss my knees, I realize that my true sanctuary isn't just this shoreline. It is the quiet space between us—the unspoken words and the way you look at me as if I were the only steady thing in a shifting world. My heart swells, a delicate ache that feels like home.

Editor: Evelyn Lin