If gratitude was an ocean, I’d have poured myself upon her. To see her float in my waves, drown in my eyes as I did hers, hang weightless for all eternity in swirls of aquamarine, a price worth paying, I think.
We met by the ocean; it seemed perfect symmetry it ending there, too. I wrapped her in a warm embrace, took a breath and waded into the waves. She soon quietened, her screams lost to the breakers, then depths, then deep.
At the end, just before the darkness took us, she smiled. I hoped she’d forgiven me, blessed us both in her way. Then again, she might just have been glad to be rid. I couldn’t blame her, I was.