The Mast

How a sunken ship has become a beacon of hope.

Ginger Day
Hello, Love

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The Ships Mast

We crested the dune on a crisp early spring day, the first of our many beach walks together. Our eyes gazed down to the Atlantic in the distance; the sunlight danced off the water. In our view, a mast jutted out from the beach, a reminder of a sunken ship from decades ago.

Having reached the edge of the sea, we walked along. The waves crashed onto the shore luring me to a place of comfort. With where I was, and who I was with. We nestled in the dunes out of the wind and chatted about our pasts and our hopes and dreams for the future. I drew pictures in the sand as I have done since childhood. A sense of calm and ease had enveloped me.

The sun warmed my face, his presence warmed my soul. His smile was full of joy, kindness, and love. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen. His voice was the most soothing I’ve ever heard. My heart softened by him, I felt safe again. I was home.

Time flew by as we sat and talked. I didn’t want the moment to end. The conversation was effortless with him.

Soon the sun began to dip, meaning the temperature would do the same. We headed back. Our feet sank into the sand while we talked, laughed, and smiled. Then a comfortable silence fell between us. With a sudden sense of bravery, I linked my arm through his. I knew at that moment I had fallen in love.

What followed was unlike anything we’d ever experienced before. It was magnetic and magical. A connection neither of us had ever felt with anyone else. Often when we embraced, kissed, and our skin touched, we were overcome by an ineffable “feeling.” Whatever it was, we only ever felt it with each other. Not knowing how else to label it, we referred to it as love. Our love for one another.

We came into one another’s lives when least expected. The light we both needed after heartbreak, distrust, and broken dreams.

We were blindsided by one another. Meeting in the most unlikely of places. Later realizing our paths likely had crossed many times for years prior. Having finally met one another was destiny.

Now I walk past the mast, a symbol of us and a beacon of my hope that one day our paths will cross again. That his fear will wane. That he will come back to me.

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Ginger Day
Hello, Love

Former educator, consultant, and editor turned writer. Loves dark chocolate, short stories, the sun, and sea.