you will be drawing circles in the sand when he finds you.
'why are you bothering to draw in the sand?' he'll ask. 'the waves will only wash your circles away.'
you'll finish the circle by writing love in the center, then you'll stand up to answer him, hair in your eyes from the wind and sand on your face.
'because maybe it won't get washed away,' you'll say. 'isn't it a chance worth taking?'
and instead of laughing at you like you expected, he'll smile. 'yes,' he'll say. 'oh, yes.'
you will be weak with lack of sleep, drowsy and stumbling, and he'll catch you before you run into the wall.
'go away,' you'll tell him. 'just go away.'
'no,' i don't think i will,' he'll say. 'want me to tell you a secret about you?'
'no,' you'll murmur bitterly, but that won't stop him.
'see, you have this dark view of love and hearts,' he'll say. 'for one, you don't believe in love, or the fairytale happily ever after kind. because it always gets washed away, doesn't it? that's how you see it. but, somehow, you still believe it's a chance worth taking.'
you'll stare at him, amazed thatt he figured out this part of you. but he's not finished, not yet.
'and for two, you hate hearts. you hate how they break,' he'll say. 'you think everyone's heart has a do not disturb sign on it, and you have no idea how to take it off.'
'you're wrong,' you'll say, still somewhat shocked.
'am i?' he'll ask.
'yes,' you'll reply. 'i don't hate hearts. i just wish someone would take that sign off of mine, and then off of theirs.'
he'll smile. 'give me a chance, and i think i can do that.'
you'll have your first kiss. it will be in winter, under the falling snowflakes and on that bridge over the frozen river.
he'll catch a snowflake in his hand. 'do you want it?' he'll ask.
you'll shake your head, lost in thought.
you'll think that maybe, like falling snowflakes and winter and drawings in the sand, this will get washed away; end.
but maybe, just maybe, it won't.