On his wanderings he could not help his mind dissecting everything they had been.

He should have known.

There were times he wondered who she dressed for?

She would take such care to make herself beautiful, 

yet she never cared what he thought.

He could hear seagulls in the distance.

"Where are you? Are you with him?"

The silence said it all. 

Like a stone in his gullet.

And he hated himself for asking.

That day on the beach it seemed the sea knew her heart.
All day she walked, pacing in seething rage at her own weakness.

All of a sudden she had a longing to see him.

She knew then that she would go home in the end.

Sometimes she felt there was no going back.