The infinite sensation of falling with both feet firmly on the ground. Of something that was perfectly obvious, and entirely invisible, all at the same time. It was the sensation of hanging on the edge of a seat.
Elle was laying on her back staring up at a black night sky, punctuated where it was pierced by light in scattered places.
The long grass was tickling her ear and a few of her toes, but she didn’t move. She breathed in deeply of all of those earthen smells that accompany a balmy summer evening. Grass. Dirt. Rain. Somewhere, close by, the ocean.
In those moments, those still moments, she knew that she was going to be okay. Leaving in the fall, there would be so many things that would be different. But in her heart, she would be the same. She would remember that first dance, that first kiss. The first car. The laugher, and the tears. There would always be that to fall back on.
There would always be someone to call, someone to talk to. All she really had to do was want it badly enough.