She realized she misses him the most in the winters. When they were together, they belonged to the cold waves; trees may have lost their leaves, winter winds would blow, but the warmth of love kept them happy. It was a time when they could leave early from their work and leave friends behind to meet and dream. Their time for stargazing. Their time. Of togetherness.
She felt broken and alone. In the warmth of a bonfire or the wind of a highway. She kept thinking: “He would have loved all this so much..” and got lost in the memories of walking through the lake side, throwing stones together and dangling their feet in the stars.
It's August. But back then, whenever she reached home late, walking across the city in dark, he was always by her side. But he feels far away from her now, and listening to the music he like doesn't bring him any closer too. She misses the windy bus rides home and barefoot walking in the dust. She misses singing the poetry, he wrote for her. She miss serenity.
For the rest of their lives, wanderlust will carry them across the seven seas and memories will slip through their fingers like sand.
She was waiting to see him when the sun hits the horizon and this time, they'll walk across the water together.
Her hopes against hopelessness, her dreams against nightmares and her wishes against reality made her forget the he would never come back from heaven and back from that flight crash which separated them, forever.