The wind blows my hair again. I’m standing on the edge again. Night after night, the same breeze, the same smell, the same sights. After he left I didn’t know what to do with myself. Why did he leave? Was my hair not blonde enough? Were my eyes not as bright a green as he wanted? As I look out at sea, waves, sand, I imagine him now. It makes me sick, imagining him with a bleach blonde woman with big blue eyes. I hear a seagull caw out, it gains my attention, something hard to do these past days. There the seagull stands, tall, proud, unafraid. I am jealous. But then we make eye contact. It’s eyes and mine feel connected, together, one. I feel seen, I feel heard, all at once I feel like a person again. The edge doesn’t feel like an edge, but rather an escape. I leave. The wind blows my hair again. It’s now a different deep blonde color, shorter, how I liked it when I was younger. I’m standing at the edge again. Smiling, looking, the breeze is cool, the smell is simply the beach, the colors fade from blue, to white, to pink, to orange. I feel connected, the edge and me, the wind and me. Together, always and forever.