…”If I could start again, a million miles away, I would keep myself, I would find a way” Hurt - Johnny Cash his cold October morning the line separating the grey sky from the grey sea was blurred. They appeared to be as one. I walk this beach every morning and I see her sitting on her balcony, it’s always the same. She wears the same dark glasses, sun or no sun, wrapped in a plaid blanket, staring straight ahead. She watches the tide coming in and going out. I used to think it was some temporary fixation and that eventually there would be some break in the routine but three years later it’s exactly the same. I want to approach her and ask her what it is about the tide that so fascinates her and continues to fascinate her for all of this time, but for some reason I don’t. I think I am afraid of what the answer might be. I have imagined that she has been abandoned by her husband, jilted by a lover, cast aside by her children and that she has no one. The distressing notion that perhaps she is blind crossed my mind and somehow the sound of the waves crashing in makes up for what she can’t see, I hope that is not the case. I think it is more than a broken heart or a broken spirit, betrayal perhaps or maybe what we all suffer from, disappointment.  I have considered and simultaneously rejected that she is just a woman who loves to watch the tide. I know there is something more to this woman who watches the tide and that there is a reason why it has become a ritual and one day I will ask her. I will ask her when I am no longer afraid of the answer....yes, there is more to this story…
mélange
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