More prose

"Meet me at the horizon," she told me, as we watched the sun rise over the lake. I liked to imagine the water belonged to the ocean, and I could lose myself in the vast expanse of it all. The sand we were sitting on probably got here in a dump truck, and was only seven inches deep, covering the hard brown clay and dirt underneath, but it completed the illusion. She completed the illusion. We lay there until I felt her drift away into unconsciousness. I think I could have stared at her forever. Instead, I gathered her in my arms and reassured her as I took her back to the car, drove her home, and left her in her bed, alone. Maybe there existed a world where we could be together. Maybe one day I would find the spot where the earth meets the sky, and in that place we could exist. Maybe one day I would stop searching for that place. Maybe I never will.