1The women crouched over in her chair, letting the tears fall down her face for only a moment, before pulling herself together, letting out a shuddering breath.
The sound of denial.
She threw a rock at the grave, chipping it a bit, before screaming, as loud as she could for as long as she could, before collapsing on the ground shaking. Her throat raw.
The sound of anger.
She returned to the grave with a package of water colors, painting a red heart over the chip and standing there with silent tears dripping down her face. Everything was quiet.
The sound of acceptance.
She slammed the door, clicking the lock and droping the key.
The sound of commitment.
She walked across the beach, leaving her footsteps in the sand, only one set, two feet.
She picked up a stick and wrote his initials in the sand. Carving them deep before moving on .The waves washed up on the shore, erasing the letters, and flowing back into the expanse of the ocean. Back and forth, back and forth. Crashing on the shore.
The sound of loneliness.
She rocked slowly, holding the book to her chest, humming their song sweetly.
The sound of healing.
She pulled off the ring, dropping it into the small metal box, it bounced off the bottom, clanking around, the band dinging against the metal.
The sound of freedom.
She walked down the aisle, her white dress pooling around her feet, smiling, a bitter sweet moment. Seeing who was waiting for her at the end of the aisle, filled her with hope and courage. The courage to do what she needed to do. The courage to whisper two words, so softly you had to strain to hear them.
The sound of happiness.
Up above a man watched smiling, before turning and walking back through the golden gates. And for the first time, closing the door, without locking it.
The sound of contentment.