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He returns again and again to the edge of the water, boots long since discarded further up the beach. With each visit he steps further in to the sea; with each step he can hear the melodies clearer.

The tears of old were tears of fear, of frustration, of loneliness. His tears now are tears of joy. They fall freely but without shame, without embarrassment.  His heart is full now; as it always should have been. It has taken so long for him to be able to love and be loved without prejudice, without judgement. He belongs here, wrapped in the waves as the melodies rush around him.

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If only there was a way of keeping the melodies to himself; yet they are free spirited and adored by so many. They play a different tune to different people, reaching out in so many different ways, touching so many lives. They need to stay free though. He knows this. The tune they play to him is unique; it is for him and him alone. No one else hears the song they sing to him. He knows their depth, feels their depth. He adores their resonance.

The melodies play stronger and sweeter for others; but this is as it should be. He knows this. He may be foolish, but he is not a fool.

The melodies are a constant companion; he can almost reach out and touch them, despite their distance. He longs for them to be real, to be able to take them in his arms and hold them just once. Once would be enough.

One day the melodies will take their true form before him.

One day.

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