Unchanging.

Often I feared the transience of beauty – both in myself and in others close to me and even in nature itself. I held a longing in my heart to preserve the beauty of the world in aspic and when I met you, Michael, I found you felt the same.

This was why we took long walks together, mostly along the cliff tops near to where we both lived, because the beauty there was constant, or so it seemed.  A thin stone wall, hole-pecked with extremes of weather, crumbling close to the edge of the cliffs, fret-worked a barrier between life and death - but of course, as young beautiful people we were impervious to any danger, particularly when our real fears lurked in ageing. We found a certain spot as lovers do and saw the sun set and rise hundreds of times, never ceasing to marvel at this sight.  And when we returned to concrete slabs and general ugliness we took our visions with us.

Today I walk alone along the cliff top and then I stop. I see faces etched in the chalky decline below where the cove swerves round to the right and the cliffs curl protectively to contain this haven. A patch of sunlight wavers on the beach below then disappears. I sense the beauty of this place about to change.

Overhead clouds swell and darken. I do not move.  I am static, rooted to the earth and feeling something screaming inside me, wanting release. The sky erupts.  I am filled with pain and notice gulls flying low, screeching out hoarse cries that echo inside me. And then the torrent..

As the rain, combined with sudden sharp wind lacerates my back, the pain inside me begins to free itself. Still unmoving, I look out to the sea crying out to the elements; an ethereal figure wearing a flimsy blue-green dress that was your favorite. 

Patterns in the raindrops, in the clouds and in you. Your body spread-eagled on the rocks below, twisted to form a star shape, with seaweed trailing from the extremities. Lots of green: the color of life, of new growth but I can see no sign of red. You are still beautiful as your eyes appear to look towards the stars and your face is unmarked.

And that is how you will remain in my mind, ever youthful, ever beautiful.  Whilst I will age and lose my beauty.  

Just an hour ago, you had held out your hand, clasped mine and pulled me towards the edge of the cliff. Ahead of us the wall was divided and a gap led to divine bliss. But I managed to pull away before you jumped. I broke our pact. Only yesterday you had asked me if I loved you more than life itself and I said, yes. You said we should preserve the beauty of that love and of ourselves.

Later today, the ebbing tide will take you - but the residue of life you left still lingers in the interstitial spaces of 'Our place' -  in rock pools, in laughter riding on the wind, in kisses that followed you as you leaped into oblivion - and in the faces carved in the cliffs: those who had watched from the beginning. I cannot touch that life now but I can still feel it.

I did love you.

Turned out I loved life more.