I lean against the railing and focus on the sunset, wiping wet, salty tears off my lips. I breathe in softy and listen to the reverberating gull cries. Why couldn’t I be like them? Why couldn’t I just fly away from all of this? Why did he have to leave? I shudder and try to hold back another sob. Crying makes me feel lightheaded, and I walk back thirty paces to sit at a bench. Thirty paces away from him. A small matter compared to the thousands of miles between us. My friends tell me that I’ll see him soon, but that just makes me feel even more worthless. How am I supposed to put up with his absence for six more months? All of a sudden, I’m crying all over again, and I pull another tissue from my bag. “Please,” I whisper to the clouds, “give me a sign that he’s doing better than I am.” I look and see a bright green flash on the horizon, turning the whole world around me green, like grass stains and forests. then, nothing. the world is its normal handful of colors once again. I whisper to the sea, “Thank you.”