Every first day of summer, here is were we ought to meet. I am the only one that can see him, as he emerges gracefully from the deep; shimmering with the remains of dusk that reflect against his perfect skin. We do not talk, we just stare. I know he knows what I am thinking, because I know what is on his mind too. I hear the crash of the waves; I hear my name in his head. I look up and see he has arrived. Today it is not the first of summer, it is the last. I know this means that this will be the last time I will see him, at least for a long while. I desperately throw my arms around him, forgetting the fact that I cannot touch him; to my dismay, he presses his forehead against mine. Tears roll down from his gray eyes; but before I can say anything, he is gone at last.

I remember I always sat on this very same pier and waited for him to come into view. Sometimes I think it was a dream, but the memories are too vivid. I smile. I have not seen him since I was a child. Now, I am no longer an infant and I feel like I am ready to go, this is the moment I have longed for. I walk numbly towards the shore, dip my feet in the golden water and try to kill time. I do not wait much longer, for he has already arrived. He has not changed; his gray eyes are the only pieces of him that have aged. He addresses me with his puzzling stare; I knew it was no dream. Suddenly, fear overcomes me and I step back. To my surprise, he perseveres; he offers me his unflawed hand. I try to read his thoughts, but I cannot remember how to. Still, I choose to take his offer, take this pointless risk. I stride into the tide, carelessly, almost free. The water bashes us in and we both return to the deep, at dusk, ready to become what we once were.