In the vast ocean, where waves meet the shore, takes away the sand and brings it back. From the surface is where everything started—and everything ended. Some sands were delivered back ashore, but some aren't. How ironic that my destiny became one of those left and remained.
In the very corner of this island, there lies an unbeknownst café, where lost people find their warmth for a little while. There, I found myself carrying the burden of what the world has given me.
When the universe gives you the world—when the universe gives you hope and purpose—I learned that it will also take all of them back. Neither one by one, nor in pieces, but sometimes all in a chance. I was so unlucky that it took everything in just a snap.
Sigh.
How can fate be so cruel towards those who barely survive? If by any chance I didn't follow him that night, would everything be the way they were supposed to be? Was I so cruel in my past life too, that fate made a rag out of me? To even crawl is the hardest—what more if I walk?
To find myself here, where my footsteps are being hidden by the wind through the sands. Lucky to come by an unfamiliar café where I can become someone I didn't even know I am.
I am a broken woman, who lost her child and was divorced by an abusive—manipulative man. I lost my only lifeline, the thing that kept me hanging. Such a tightrope to define.
I once had a picture-perfect family. I had a loving man beside me and a son whose favorite was to look at the sky and wander their wonders.
When everything hit rock bottom and when the table flipped upside down, I saw a man holding tight a woman's waist, making love under the beautiful summer days. Unbelievable—I saw my husband.
I was desperate… I didn't realize that I begged too much for him to stay. He took my son and went far where I could no longer reach. News came and said my dear child had an accident—fell down the stairs and couldn't survive. I saw no figure of a child but sand.
If I pour the ashes of my son in the ocean, will the waves bring him back ashore? Will the world give back my core foundation?
The ocean became the biggest graveyard for those bittersweet people who met their joy, was lost, but is found—yet one step too late.
Was my worth undefined? Or was I too much of a masterpiece for the world to become a canvas? Were my scars so beautifully made that no paper in white can represent the unexplainable, extraordinary piece?
I am written and drawn—yet never made and created.
Indeed, the café—so quiet—was created beside the ocean meant to reminisce joy and sorrow, to balance the cold and hot teas, and give a wonderful service. Come by again in this café to storytell the book behind a wonderful piece.