A Whisper

She goes back there every so often. Just sits on the sand and stares across the beach, stares out to sea, stares up at the stars. It's not as though she expects him to suddenly come back for her

(but wouldn't it be fantastic if he did)

but she likes the simplicity of sitting under the grey Norwegian sky and letting her stress and worries drift away with the tide.

She approximates where she stood, on that awful day, and stands in the spot where she made a confession and said goodbye with three words.

And as she stands there, she closes her eyes and almost convinces herself she can hear him reply,

I love you too.

But it's just the whisper of the wind.