The Saltwater Room

He sat on the beach watching her, the wind was coming strong off the ocean blowing pass her bringing her sweet smell all the way over to him. He had hoped this trip to bring them closer together, to cement the feelings they had mutually succumbed to, but the days had seem to be overpopulated with frustrations and arguments. He had slowly ruined their time there. How dense could he be?
It was in this moment he realized how all he needed was her, they didn’t need to create something that resembled a cinematic scene, and they did that fine without trying, so why force it? How could he go to her, how could he show her that he was sorry… He knew she was consistently trying to bite her tongue afraid she may say the wrong thing and set him off. That’s a terrible way to live, to be afraid of setting off the person you love simply by saying what you feel. He hated himself in this moment, and he knew anytime he would revisit it, albeit in his thoughts or in the stories that would inevitably transpire, there would be a rush of remorse for his inappropriate behavior.

He had convinced himself that all he was trying to do was set-up these romantic moments, these moments that would be indelible to the two of them regardless of if they stayed together, unfortunately well he did this, he couldn’t recognize the fact that he was indeed creating these moments, however they were far from romantic.
Would be enough for him to simply go up to her? To gently grab her by the small of her back and hold her in his arms… would she be able to feel the love in his touch, and realize his sorrow was enough to shock him back into his senses. It didn’t matter, that wouldn’t be enough anyway, she had deserved so much more. She had deserved something better.