Tides of Time

The wind howled across the shore like a restless spirit, stirring the waves into a foamy rage. Each wave surged forward, only to retreat — as if the sea itself could not make up its mind whether to hold on or to let go. Ava stood barefoot on the cold sand, her dress clinging to her legs, her eyes fixed on the endless blue horizon. This was her first time back in ten years.

The ocean hadn’t changed. It never did — not really. It still roared and whispered in turns, still rolled in endless rhythm, still erased footprints as if no one had ever walked there. But Ava had changed. Her heart no longer beat with the reckless rhythm of youth. She had come here searching for something — maybe closure, maybe courage, or maybe just a piece of the girl she once was.

She remembered the summer they met, the one that shimmered like sunlight on water. She was seventeen, all sharp edges and big dreams. He was Julian — golden, free, wild as the sea itself. That summer felt infinite. They swam in the shallows and whispered secrets to the wind. They collected shells, painted driftwood with stolen colors, and built castles that the waves washed away each evening. They spoke of forever like it was something they could hold in their hands. But time — time is a thief. A patient one. Summer ended. Ava left for the city, for a scholarship and a future. Julian stayed behind, bound to his family’s crumbling fishing boat and the town that never changed. They promised to write, to visit, to remember. And for a while, they did. But life grew louder, more crowded. The calls became fewer. The letters stopped.

Julian sent one last letter. She never opened it.

Now, ten years later, Ava stood where they once sat, their names carved into the driftwood bench still leaning against the rocks. The wind carried the scent of salt and seaweed. The tide rushed over her feet, cold and familiar. With every wave, memories surfaced — his laughter, the way he danced barefoot on wet sand, how he had once traced her dreams into the air with his fingertips.

She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the letter. It was old, worn soft at the edges, the ink faded on the envelope. Her fingers trembled as she opened it.

Ava,

If you’re reading this, then maybe you still care. Maybe time hasn’t washed me away completely. But if it has… that’s okay. Some things are meant to be lost, like footprints in the sand. Still, I loved you.

Always,

Julian.

She stood there for a long moment, the letter fluttering in her hand. A tear traced its way down her cheek, carried away by the wind before it could fall. She whispered his name, not loudly — just enough for the sea to hear.

There was no bitterness in her now. Just a quiet ache, softened by time, like a stone worn smooth by the waves. She had loved him. He had loved her. That was real, and that was enough.

The letter slipped from her hand and landed in the shallows. The ocean took it gently, pulling it into itself without resistance. The ink would fade, the paper would dissolve, and the words would disappear — like so many things do — but the feeling remained.

Ava turned and began walking along the shoreline, the tide tugging playfully at her heels. Behind her, the waves erased her footprints, just as they always had. She didn’t need to look back. There was nothing left to find.

The sea didn’t remember the stories she and Julian had told under the stars. It didn’t mourn what had been lost. It simply moved — forward, always forward.

As the sun dipped low, painting the sky with lavender and fire, Ava smiled. Not because she was happy, but because she was free. The past no longer hurt. The memories no longer clung. They were still there — but quieter now, like echoes in the distance. Time hadn’t erased everything. It had only softened the sharpness, faded the colors, smoothed the pain like a tide smoothing jagged stone. And in that quiet transformation, there was peace. Because some loves aren’t meant to last forever. Some memories fade for a reason .And some pain, like the ocean’s tides, only leaves when you stop trying to hold it back. The ocean roared behind her, eternal and indifferent. And Ava walked on — forward, always forward.