Frailty

Nothing could have prevented what happened next. She extended her hand, her breath slight, but visible in the dim flickering light overhead. Her lips caught the light as they quivered, the only sign of movement as she reached forward. Her legs trembling as she took a step forward, only to pause in hesitation. I paused in motion, only thinking of her trembling lips as the light flickered. There were a number of men more handsome, but she had chosen. She gave off some hint of frailty, desperately calling, but I gave it no thought. I watched her all the way until her hand held mine, and then we continued walking, an uninterrupted walk home, silent but loving.

It came to me some years later, long after she had left me. I had just arrived at the Pensacola Beach, intent on a solitary vacation absent of the world. I was sitting on the beach, staring at the edge of the ocean while I sipped Starbucks. I sat there for the day, absorbed on the edge, the unknown edge that has caused generations of people to wonder if we were the only thing between the earth and heaven. As the sun set, a bold defying glow against the blue expanse, her frailty suddenly emerged, calling to me. In that moment, I glimpsed deeper into her frailty, and saw truthfully what it was for. Her frailty was a cage for what had connected us, the moments of frailty that emerged she had absorbed into this cage, trapped until I was gone. And when this knowledge struck me, I was filled with sorrow, bitter sorrow. She had been absolutely the one for me, but my ignorance had killed her.

But neither she nor me could have saved her. The cage she built around herself, she had lost the key. And as many of those I have known, she locked herself away from me. Having reached a conclusion, she up and left without a word.