I leaned my forehead against the cold glass of the window in my little room. I actually found an inn to stay there for a night. In my hand I held a bottle. A bottle of rum. Still tears streamed silently down my cheeks.
My fingertips touched slightly the window. "I love you, Jack." It was hardly more than a tear-choked whisper. But these words were sincere.
The moon mirrored in the ocean. The big, wide ocean. And somewhere out there was Jack. I almost expected that he would embrace me from back. Kiss me... I was naive. He wasn't here. And though I felt the familiar, protecting warmth of his arms and his body.
I sobbed quietly. It was hard to ignore it. To ignore that I maybe wouldn't see him never more. This thought made it even worse. Although he had hurt me, I missed him. Loved him.
But what if I would meet him again...? No. It was stupid to think of it. I still stared at the ocean, looked on the waves, the moonlight. The world was big. Jack could be everywhere.
Dead. Alive. That was freedom. He had shown me what freedom was. It was to go wherever you want. To do whatever you want. Nobody could say you what you should do and what you shouldn't do. Jack was free. A pirate. A pirate who was bold and full of secrets like the sea. And though so childlike in his heart.
I finally had become a pirate. Left the convent, Spain, my home. Did things from whom my mother had wanted to protect me. She hadn't wanted me to get hurt. Above all trough a man.
But love was stronger. Stronger than the tides. Stronger than everything. It was wonderful, special. Exciting. It was beautiful and passionate, a game and hate. Pain and trust, fate. Love could be sweet and kind, but also cruel. Love hurt.
But he stole my heart.
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