It's quiet for a Saturday. Then again, it's the middle of winter. It's unlikely that you'll find people wandering at the beach in January. It's been almost ten days. It somehow feels like you're still here. Maybe it's because I'm away. But I feel you next to me. It's likely that I'd ask you: "How have you been?" And you'd say with a pout: "I could be better". And you'd smile after that.

"Life is short. It's okay not to be okay", you'd say. Now it feels weird. I sense you around me. Invading my space, coming with me to a place you've never been before. But I have. I've been coming here for quite some time now.

"How are you?" I ask.

"I could be better". You say.

"I know."

You nod.

"How did you know I'd be here?"

"You're not hard to find. You're rather predictable". You smile.

"Am I?" I look straight ahead. I look at the waves.

"You always loved the sea".

"So did you".

"Lucky me. I can be here every day from now on", you sigh.

"I doubt you'll be here every day". I shake my head.

"Why?"

"This isn't your home. You have other places to be".

"This isn't your home either".

"I know. But I chose to be here".

"Do you regret it?"

"Time will tell". There's a pause.

"It's time for me to go".

"I knew you wouldn't stay".

"I have to go home. You said it yourself".

"Will I see you again?" I whisper. I can barely raise my voice.

"Only if you want".

"Of course I want".

"We'll meet again then. Somewhere far from here".

"Will we?"

"We will". And just likethat you're gone. Once again. Leaving me alone on a beach. In the middle of thewinter. Talking to the waves. They say, when you miss someone, you can findthem in the smallest of things. In a laugh you heard somewhere in the distance,a word that found a frequent shelter on their lips and a smell that was theirsignature. It's the small things that make a person and when they're gone,they're the things you miss.