the bonfire was dug into the sand, secured and safe from the sea breeze. the red and orange and yellow bits of flame crackled off and rose into the air, disappearing after a while. the smell of fire filled the area, mixed with the sharp contrast of salty seawater. stars hung low in the sky, side by side with the full moon. heat rose up from the white sand but the chill of the ocean waves and winds were quick to temper the warmth down. messy platinum locks shoved into a beanie. your head on his shoulder, his head on yours. one hand interlaced with the other’s.
Looking back, I can’t remember the truth. I blew everything out of proportion so I could feel the hurt and betrayal and write about it in vivid detail. It was my own method of torture. My own undoing; and I enjoyed every second of it.