“Can I tell you a secret?”

The words were hushed, hesitant, as if she really didn't want to tell her secret. But the words came nonetheless, and she was powerless to stop herself now from revealing everything and absolutely nothing. No more words, only a small, helpless sigh and she was shifting uncomfortably in her seat besides the water. Her secret, she realized, could not be so easily revealed, not by words; her secret it would remain.

He never answered her.

Perhaps if he had shown even the slightest bit of acknowledgment, perhaps if he was looking at her with those curious and perceptive eyes, perhaps... perhaps... Her thick eyelashes rose to reveal sad and weary eyes. Perhaps if he was there, she would have told him everything. But instead she would settle for the simple, the answerable, the question that if he’d been sitting next to her, he might have found less trouble understanding.

“Do you remember how we met?”

Silence.

She assumed as much. Even still, she would not allow this small indiscretion any authority in deterring her resolve on the matter and instead she smiled pleasantly, continuing to pretend that he could hear her; he was there, he just couldn’t be seen. “It was raining.” She was a terrible lair. But maybe it had been raining, she honestly couldn’t remember. It seemed a lifetime ago. “Don’t you remember?”

Of course he did. How could he forget something as important as their first meeting?

How could she?

“I think... I think you were worried.” Funny, how she could remember that. “Your eyes. It was your eyes. There was so much worry for me and you barely knew me.” Her soft voice faltered for a moment and, as more silence answered her, she found herself craving his warm embrace, his bright, kind eyes. He always made her smile. Where was he now? She smiled still, just for him. But it twitched on tightly pursed lips and soon it was no longer that pained smile of late; with a stifled whimper and a clipped, feigned laugh, it vanished altogether.

Where was he? How could he leave her? She knew it was childish and silly, but she wanted him back. If he was there, perhaps she could be freed from her endless drifting; sitting stagnant with one well-placed and elegant toe just above the water’s surface, never once moving, yet always so terribly lost. And she was lost, even if she was surrounded by loved ones and admirers.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

It was whispered now and if the wind had been anything more than a silent breeze, she may never have heard her own words. Something warm rolled down her cheek and she closed her eyes, willing that troublesome lump back down her throat. It hurt, and in that moment she could image no other pain. The breeze wrapped around her slight frame, cooling her hot face and embracing her like a lover; but it left quickly and she was alone once again.

Below the water parted quickly for her when her toe grazed its surface. She would have whistled like he taught her to do, but she couldn’t find her voice and her lips were tired from trying so many times before. She’d whistle for him soon enough, just not now. She’d smile for him again, just not today. He would understand, she realized, and instead she pictured him smiling, that beautiful and curious smile of his. Her lips lifted slightly in response.

She wished she had a smile like his.

And then her secret came, as if it had been resting attentively on the tip of her tongue, waiting patiently for her to let her guard down, waiting for her to think of more pleasant times. There was a gulp and a shaky breath.

“I think I needed you more.”

Nothing, just the endless sea and the impossibly blue sky.

He was once a beautiful dream, long ago.