Everything is dark and invisible except for the few lucky objects illuminated by the filtering pale moonlight. Headlights creep over a hill momentarily washing everything in a sterile white. Inside the car is a rolling ocean of
thoughts,
worries,
dreams.

The writer boy.
The one who's incredibly handsome, romantic, poetic, oblivious...

and unavailable.

Realization painfully strikes like a bolt of lightning and thunderheads of shame, inadequacy,
annoyance,
and heartache appear out of nowhere.
tears slowly seep down like small raindrops and increase in speed and size until they're a torrential downpour and deep sobs rumble deep within a throbbing heart.

The storm at that moment seems so immense that there is no end to be found.

But, slowly, oh so agonizingly slowly the ocean calms once more.
But the ocean is changed though.
Never to be the same.
Time has not found it well
and before you know it another storm appears foreboding in the distance.
Ready to strike at any time.

Outside the ocean the black fades to red and a new beginning emerges.