The wheels of fate were turning; he could feel it as he stood atop the granite cliff, the wind blowing steadily through his ruffled hair. He closed his eyes, letting the cool wind cleanse him of all his worries. This was what he had wanted; this utter sense of freedom from all responsibilities; the carefree whimsy with which he had been unable to live his life by… until now.

The time had come where it was no longer an option to just live life one day at a time. He needed a plan now; another path had opened up, and he dreaded what lay beyond. He needed time to think, to plan out his course of action. He feared, however, that it was too late.

It had been two years; two years that he had both loved and hated. He had loved them because it had allowed him the freedom of not worrying about other people's problems. The past two years had been an adventure for him, a turning point in his life that he would never have been able to reach had he not left. At the same time, a vile black hatred of the previous years had entered his mind.

He had left his home, all because of what? The fear of committing… of being responsible for someone else's hopes and fears? Or was there an underlying reason, one he was unable or unwilling to acknowledge? Everything was so confusing; he didn't know where to go, or who to turn too. If only he had all the answers, everything would be that much simpler.

Turning from the cliff, he walked a little ways until he came to an old oak tree. Resting his hand upon it, he turned to gaze at the magnificent ocean as he watched the sunset, a fiery orange glaze against the blue canvas of the sky. He sighed wistfully; and her face came into his mind.

He was startled at first; his thoughts of her had been fleeting the last two years, but now they emerged full-force, assailing his senses. He remembered her eyes, her lips, and her silken black hair. He remembered the cute way she would crinkle her nose when she found something amusing; he remembered the way she kissed him.

"NO!" he shouted to the solitude, slamming his fists against the trunk of the aging tree to punctuate his statement. "I will NOT think of her, I will not, I will not!"

His throat closed up in an effort not to spill any tears that threatened to fall, and he hung his head in shame. Why had the memories returned now? Why, after two years, did he think of her? Of everything? It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to live his life in perfect solitude, only needing to deal with his problems and his alone. Somehow, though, he knew that he couldn't continue living his life that way.

Sighing deeply, his mind racing, he turned away from the tree and walked into the orphanage.