He promised to meet her at the water’s edge at twilight, but neglected to say what day. So she returned every evening to wait for him, watching as the sun painted brilliant colors across the sky while the water reflected the calm, quiet ache she felt inside. Night after night, week after week, month after month nature’s show would end and she would walk back home, empty of everything but longing. But she couldn’t miss a night. What if he returned and she wasn’t there?
She stood, leaning against a strong trunk, numb to the beauty of the yellow and orange sky paired with the lavender hills and cerulean waves. The snap of a twig and crunch of leaves warned of approaching company. Her heart, used to disappointment, no longer tried to jolt out of her chest with the rush of hope.
“It’s more spectacular than usual tonight.”
She turned her head to see whose deep, gentle voice had broken the silence. Eyes the same blue as the water met her own and, for a moment, her mind didn’t flood with thoughts of the rich brown eyes she missed so much.
“Yes,” she said with a small smile, “Thank you for helping me notice.”
Time passed in that unstoppable way it has. Looking back now, she’s not sure when the shift happened, when the trips to the water’s edge were no longer about the brown eyes she remembered but the blue eyes she loved.
She bent and picked up a flat smooth rock and sent it skipping across the water. The child beside her laughed and clapped his small chubby hands. His eyes, the same blue as water, danced with delight while lonely brown ones watched from a distance.