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Sweet Melancholy

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You watch her looking out over the water, staring at nothing, and certainly not the ocean. Salty water lick at her feet and small flecks of sand cling to chipped nail polish. Sun glints off her golden locks and leave sparkling trails as the breeze whips it around. Hair clinging to cheeks and lips but goes unnoticed by her. Just one more thing that has been lost. You wrap warm arms around her. She pours a sad smile on you and lets you lead her away, back to the house. She does things to please you and not because anything brings her pleasure. You fry up her favourite combinations with the windows wide open. Maybe a passing breeze would be kind and assist you. Instead soft strains reach you…the piano…

 After a painful dinner watching her dance the food around the plate you join her by the fire. You watch as the sadness reaches a palpable wave. Instead of crashing it settles slowly on her. Each breath taking in more and leeching colours from her bit by bit. Eventually she becomes a faded white against the embers of the fire and instead of breathing in melancholy she overflows it onto her surroundings. It travels in slow waves draining the room of spark and flame. Feeling guilty you move away to avoid the wave.

 “I will leave her for now, maybe sitting by the fire will help more than I can.” you think.

 You know you are running away from her, her pain and the refusal to heal. You feel guilty. Always guilty. Her melancholy follows you through the house, no peace nor escape to be had. You stomp up the stairs, you need the sound to distract you. Maybe it will dispel the wave coming up behind you. Rushing ahead, fleeing the pain and ache.

 Outside you hear laughter and joy, the sound sacrilegious and thrilling. A beach party, lively music that calls to you. Your breathing speeds up, a guilty glance over your shoulder. Do you dare?

 Your feet make the decision for you as your shoes seem to easily slip off with no thought or effort from your part. Quick, excited breaths as you think of joining life and colour. Over the window ledge and down the side railing of the porch, excitement lending agility to your movements.

 The night air is fresh and sweet smelling, music and laughter floating along lightly pulling you towards it. You find yourself rushing forward in anticipation. The friendly yellow glow of the merrymakers fire greet you, the strangers draw you into their circle with glad smiles. Light voices flitting from subject to subject, including you easily and comfortably.

 The evening speeds to an end all too quickly and you realise how long you have been away from her. Has she even noticed? Would she notice if you returned…you cannot help but stay on the beach after the merrymakers leave for their beds and sleep. What rest waited for you? She hardly sleeps and inevitably you don’t either. You decide a million times to get up and go back but a million times your body stays where it is. Finally you push to your feet and turn away and not to…

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