Oz stood on the brink of the great blue-gray ocean. Staring out into its misty depths in the early morning sunlight, rays of the sunshine seemed to seap through the clouds and flash on the water like great schools of gold plated fish. It was lovely, the waves crashing on the bone breaking rocks below the cliff. Something he could write a song about, something he could learn to love if he could just spend the rest of his days there.

Something he could share with someone he loved.

He'd spent nearly a year wandering around the country, the world. Still trying to find himself, aimless and usually jobless. He'd met some great people, but he missed his home. His life.

He couldn't run any longer. He couldn't do it. Running had turned into a bunch of crap that led to nothing. He'd lost Willow, the girl he thought he would marry, because he'd run. Now he couldn't seem to find the beauty in the world anymore. It wasn't the fact that he missed Willow, that had gone into a dull numbness in the center of his heart. Sure, he would always have a tender place in his heart for redheads, but he was over her. He was moving on. He needed to get on with his life. Like she had.

He gut seemed to wrench and he thought for a split second he might throw up. She'd moved on, because he'd run from her. Because he couldn't deal. It was a selfish thing to do, he'd known that when he'd left. Then he'd come back and tried to eat the person she loved now, the person she'd chosen over him. Wasn't there someone keep score up there on the ironic meter? First, he lost her to her own best friend, then he'd lost her because of one of his own kind, then he'd lost her to another girl. Maybe it wasn't his problem anymore, maybe if Willow cared enough. . .

No. He wasn't going to do that. It would be too easy to blame her. He was just as much to blame, he wasn't going to blame himself completely again either. He couldn't take that on his conscience, he knew it wasn't completely his fault either. They just weren't meant to be, and *that* was what tore away at the bindings of his heart. The girl he'd spotted out of a angry crowd of people in a Eskimo costume, the girl he'd loved more then life, and on their second official meeting together had taken a bullet for her. His sweet redheaded pixie, his Willow.

Too bad she wasn't his anymore.

He felt a light spray of ocean water hit him in the face, seeming to bring him back to a dull reality. He had to go find a actual life for himself. Maybe he would go back to college, and if it was too late for that. . . he could always go find a job with a computer company. Anything, to keep himself afloat.

But still, the beautiful scene that lay before him held nothing but a sweet, tenderness he could no longer touch.

And that was the tragedy of his life, the tragedy of his lost love. It was over, now his deepest heart had to except that like his mind had.
~*~End~*~
Finger11's "For the Ocean"
Without it I'm failing
My heart waits in the wings alone
The stages I go through
Keep coming time and time and time again
Do you wonder how I stay
So complacent
It's like waiting for the ocean
To save you from the waves
When you're so far under
Silent
Never moving
You've taken your timing
So flawless executing me
So fearless and hopeful
Can you imagine such a scene?