I held his hand. It was as rough and coarse as the summer sun but as soft and heartfelt as spring cherry blossoms that bloom around our farm. We walked to the beach. It was his favorite spot. We never went anywhere else for our little outings, he liked to call them dates in our early stages.

I remember when he first came into town.

It was the first real day of my life. His purple bandana had caught my eye from the minute I saw it. His mousy brown eyes practically screamed his playboyness. Anyone could see it in plain sight. Well maybe except me.

He used to say I was special to him. He used to say that I was his everything. He used to say that was his world. He was mine too. Until he left.

He would always leave. When summer was over and the fall leaves had begun to fall he would run away on his magical space ship that he ventured away on until the next summer when he would come back to our tiny port. I was sad, well I was more lonely than sad. After awhile he began to stay longer and longer into the months. One time he even stayed until Fall 14th. But I never realized that it wasn't for me.

He had never returned year after year for me. It was never about me. It was never about me. It never was.

I held his hand as tight as I ever did. He wore a grey down vest. The winter would be returning soon and he still hadn't left. I never realised that it wasn't for me that he was staying for. I was ignorant. His safe, warm, gentle, brown eyes were never for me. He was my all, but I was his nothing. He was the mysterious man who showed up one summer day and left the next. He stole my heart away in a second, but also captured another in the same process.

He used to say that my heart was the color of those cherry blossoms. He also used to say that maybe one day he would return to spring so that we could watch the cherry blossoms together. He never did that. He had never stayed that long for me.

As we walked to the beach I could feel the grip of his hand loosening around my own. By the time we reached dock he had entirely let go. I was the only one still hanging on.

I turned to the wind. It was brisk against my skin and tousled my hair so that it knotted. I knew he was talking. I knew that he called me by my pet name. I knew all sorts of things, but that didn't mean I wanted to believe them.

Hi everyone. I though I would write this. It's my little catharsis. I recently broke up with my boyfriend. Thanks for reading.