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As the city fell quiet behind us, the sound of my fast-pacing heart was beating in steady competition with the slow but consistant waves of the shore, which was being painted with a lilac reflection by the minute. There was something intimidating by the supposed-to-be soothing stillness of the ocean. I had through my 21 years of age got to learn that there is always quiet before the storm, and the storm, it would usually come.


He took my hand, and I wondered if he could hear the emotions stirring inside of my quiet body. "You remind me of the sky" he said. His voice was breaking through the quiet wind, and I asked him why. "Because you change. Just like the sky, you consistantly, unexpectidly, unforgivingly, change. You, Caroline, just like the sky, are never still, always in constant motion." "And..." he paused "you have a darkness that you know will always arrive, a consistant visitor if you will. And although you know there will again be light the next day, you have to live through the pain of knowing darkness will without knocking, show up, every night. The thing about the sky is that it never -really- changes, only our perception of it does, wether it's left in darkness by the sun who had to leave, or lit up by the million of stars, that only we can see in your eyes, or if it's filled with rain like the tears in the corner of your eyes when the clouds inside of you have crashed too hard. Sometimes you carry thunderstorms, and sometimes you carry the light of the entire universe. But the one thing that makes me believe you are the sky in human form, is that there is nothing more beautiful than the lilac painting-like picture I am looking at right now, and just like the sky at this very second, no one could ever paint you a perfect reflection of you. And even if someone as skilled as Van Gogh would have tried, by the moment he finish, you would have already moved on to your next color".

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