The sky above the shore was a calming canvas of greys and blues, as if the universe had chosen a softer palette for the day. A faint chill hung in the air, carried by the sea breeze, rustling through the hair of the girl walking silently along the water’s edge.
Meera didn’t say a word as she walked. She didn’t need to. Her presence said enough.
Beside her, Aarav matched her pace. His hands were tucked in the pockets of his hoodie, his shoes occasionally splashing through the edge of the tide. The silence between them wasn’t awkward. In fact, it was the kind of silence that only years of knowing each other could build—one that didn’t need to be filled with noise to feel meaningful.
They reached the far curve of the beach where the land rose into a natural platform of stone and sand. It was a spot most people walked past, but Meera had always gravitated toward it. She liked its wild, untouched feel. It made her feel like the world paused here, if only for a while.
Meera stopped, taking in the vast stretch of water that seemed to go on forever. The sea looked heavy, as though it held a thousand secrets just beneath the surface. She stood still for a moment before finally speaking.
“Do you know why I brought you here today?” she asked, her voice soft but clear.
Aarav glanced at her and shook his head. A faint smile played on his lips—gentle, curious.
Meera turned her gaze back toward the sea. “Maybe no one really knows why they return to certain places. But for me, this… this is where I come when I feel like everything inside me is too loud. When there’s too much to process, too many questions I don’t have answers to. This is my place.”
He didn’t interrupt. He knew Meera too well to break her rhythm.
“This place doesn’t always give me the answers I’m looking for,” she continued, “but it gives me something else. A kind of peace. Like... like I can breathe again. Like the chaos in my head isn’t permanent.”
Aarav looked out at the ocean. The waves moved in and out, endlessly patient, as if they, too, were listening.
“You see that wave?” Meera pointed at a small one, barely a ripple compared to the larger ones behind it. “Most people think waves are all the same. But they’re not. That little wave—it’s like the small joys in life. The ones we miss because we’re always chasing something bigger.”
She paused, her expression thoughtful.
“We get a warm message from someone we didn’t expect, or we hear a song we forgot we loved. Someone notices something small about us, something we didn’t think anyone else saw. These tiny moments… they mean more than we allow ourselves to admit.”
Aarav nodded slowly. He had never thought of life like that, but now that she said it, he understood.
“We either over-celebrate those moments, or we ignore them completely, thinking they’re not worth holding onto. Why? Because we’re always waiting for the next big thing. The big dream, the big job, the big love, the big ‘aha’ moment that’s supposed to change everything.”
She smiled faintly. “But here’s the truth no one talks about… When the big wave comes, we step back. We’re scared. Overwhelmed. We think we want something life-changing until it actually shows up, and suddenly, we don’t know how to handle it.”
She folded her arms across her chest, the wind brushing her hair into her face.
“Sometimes those big waves—they’re not joy or opportunity. Sometimes they’re warnings. A signal that something unexpected is coming. Something that could shake your world in a way you never saw coming. And when it does… you can’t stop it. You can’t plan for it. You can only stand there and let it hit, and then… deal with whatever’s left behind.”
Aarav finally spoke. “And what if you don’t deal with it well? What if it breaks you?”
Meera looked at him, her gaze steady. “Then it does. It breaks you. But only for a while. The thing is, nothing breaks you permanently—unless you let it.”
She let out a quiet breath. “And sometimes, even joy can do that to you. I don’t think we talk enough about that part. How happiness, if it comes all at once, when you least expect it, can be just as hard to process. We’re taught to chase it, but never taught how to hold it.”
He watched her, the sincerity in her words settling around them like the sea mist.
She went on, “We build up so many walls, thinking we’re protecting ourselves from heartbreak. But we forget that sometimes, joy needs space too. And when it comes rushing in, it doesn’t always feel like joy. Sometimes, it just feels like fear.”
Aarav sat down on a flat rock, resting his hands on his knees. “So… what do we do when that wave comes?”
“You let it come,” Meera replied. “You let it wash over you. You let yourself feel it, fully. Whether it’s grief or love, fear or freedom—don’t fight it. Feel it. And then let it pass. That’s the only way it won’t drown you.”
Aarav was quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in. Then he smiled. “You always make it sound so simple.”
“It’s not simple,” she said. “But it’s necessary.”
She looked back out at the water.
“And it’s okay, Aarav… to not have all the answers. To let some questions remain unanswered. You don’t need to solve everything. Some questions are meant to stay open. At least then, you don’t risk giving the wrong answer—and living with the guilt.”
The wind picked up slightly, and the waves grew louder, as if they, too, wanted to add something to the conversation.
The silence between them returned—but this time, it was even more comforting. They didn’t speak, because they didn’t need to. The sea spoke enough for them both.
After what felt like both minutes and hours, Aarav finally stood up and extended a hand to Meera. She took it, and together they began walking back along the beach.
They didn’t look back.
They didn’t need to.
The waves would still be there. The questions might still remain. But something inside them had shifted. Not completely, not dramatically—but gently, like the tide easing its way to shore.
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