> the sea crashed onward, seeming to consume the shore - and her soul. the sea reminded her of him... bringing back all the previous weeks poison and emotion. had it been only a week? how utterly trivial! it had seemed like years that she lie awake in the dark, her cheeks moist with angry tears, her lips moving in the air... mouth filled with unspeakable words of inexpressible pain. he had been injust... so silent, so... indifferent. sitting there watching her struggle with the words, not knowing what to say, or how to make her pain known in a rational, sane, justified way. but he knew... she could see his eyes laughing at her, the dark sorrel-brown gleamed with dull light as he watched her, silent, making mockery of her feelings for him... strong as they were.

By way of apology, please allow me preface this by saying I am not trying to make light of your pain; nonetheless, I am struggling to comprehend the essential dynamics. I am greatly curious about profound emotions -- the life-changing, soul-searching type of emotions -- and have always wished to learn more. I pray I am not too bold in asking this, but perhaps you could kindly fill me in through your experiences...

You are aware, of course, that it is possible for one to read an attitude of disdain in another person, by observing his body language/posture. But 'mockery'? Can one actually *see* the harsh laughter of derision dancing in a man's eyes? This is a concept I often read about in great detail but have yet to observe. How does one truly know we're being 'mocked' by a stony watcher silently glaring at us? Have I been missing something all these years? Sigh.

What is so terribly difficult is to break this hard wall of silence that serves to shut you out of his heart. I have never found any effective means to salve the wounds, other than the blunt passage of time and patience. It is a difficult and lonely path. But know this, you are never truly alone in life; your soul is held precious by the author of life.


> The sea raged on, the wind whipping bitterly about her body, whispering harshly about her face... but the words were swept away just too quickly for her to understand.
> 'Scorpion...'
> she whispered back to the wind, sinking down into the melancholy she knew so well, the dull and quiet anger swept in a ripple across her soul, and she knew that he would never see. Frothy waves lapped about her bare feet, comforting, understanding. The sea had always known. the sea was the eternal one.

Yes, this imagery is breathtakingly, Raven. The sea is eternal... your prose is a beautiful gift. I am moved to give this to you, something I think about at times such as these...

/ / / / Comme une rivière cherchant la mer au lointain
/ / / / En cherchant les mots sur la terre traçant le chemin
/ / / / Ils sont nécessaires autant que l'eau et le pain
/ / / / Autant que le rêve et plus encore


And this means,

/ / / / As a river seeks out the distant sea
/ / / / It searches out words on the ground to trace the way
/ / / / These are necessary as much as water and bread
/ / / / As much as the dream and even more