The sky is grey; It's a cold November day. I look at the sea; It's also grey. Bold, breakers, batters, the sandstone cliffs. The gulls, normally fearless and swooping, have taken refuge high up in their nests. Not me though. I'm here just as I've always been, waiting, looking at miles and miles of churning gray water. I sit and think, wondering when you might come back, wondering if you've thought about us. I'm getting wet now. Cold, fine, a drizzle falls that drenches me to the skin. Do you remember that guy? The kind you only find near the sea. What do they call it? Oh yes, I remember a sea wave. We bought those nice red jackets so we wouldn't get wet on days like these, remember? The children miss you. Anna always asks me this. Ben tries not to think. Remember when we first came here, before we had kids? Just you and me; we were so in love. No money, no job, just a battered miniskirt, a desire to succeed, and each other: we were invincible. We were alive, full of anticipation for our future. Let's start the business; the bank thought your ideas were good, and so did I then. Within five years we had it all: nice house, new car, holidays abroad every year; not that we needed to leave this place, it was beautiful. Then I got pregnant; do you remember? You were like a dog with two tails; I had to bribe you not to tell everyone until three months had passed. I loved you more then than ever, we would become a family: complete. When Anna was born you were so proud, in fact you were amazing. Then, two years later, a son Ben arrived; our lives were blessed. Our love for each other... middle of paper... trong: as I once was. I really came to say hello to you; we are moving. After everything was sold, there was just enough money left to buy a small, dilapidated cottage. It is not by the sea, in fact, on the contrary; it's right in the heart of the Midlands, about ten miles from Birmingham. You would have hated it; I'm sure I will love it. Either way, the kids will wonder where they are. You see, they can't go near the beach. You stole that joy from them too. They cannot go near the beach for fear that memories will invade their young and sensitive minds. Therefore, when you selfishly ran away, you took more than yourself. They loved that boat. They remember, you see, sailing just off the coast looking for those translucent pink jellyfish. Do you remember? We had such a great time. Wasted: Suicides like that.