I have always been an introvert. The truth is that I find most people either uninteresting or down right disappointing. Idle conversation just does not hold my interest and I would prefer to listen most of the time and if I have something of value to contribute I will.

So many conversations are initiated by people who just like to hear themselves speak. I am just not one of those people. Many of those same people show no interest in what is happening in the lives of others they are friends with. They are happy to pass the time with meaningless conversation, but seldom if ever ask the questions of another that would show that they are truly interested.

Over the years, my habit of listening more than speaking, and asking the hard questions of my friends gave me perspective into their lives. I can count on one hand the number of times those types of questions were posed to me. Disappointing, right?

Annie turned that model upside down. She immediately started out asking questions, and in return revealing her personal self. She was and still is the only person that managed to break through to me on a personal level. She was the only one who proved she did care by making the effort. Even today, I can start out a conversation with someone new, ask some questions, reveal some facts and still not get a question in return. I have to believe that most people just do not care how others feel or what is going on in their lives.

We had the deepest, heartfelt conversations between us as we described all our fears and hopes to each other. We both loved rain storms. When a storm was approaching we would head to the nearest beach to feel the fury of the storm and the pounding of the waves. The dark energy seemed to revitalize us.

Storms are a lot different for me now that she has passed. I still go to the ocean if I am near, whenever a storm occurs but no longer get the same result. It is always the same for me. I wait till the rain begins to pound on the sand and walk to the waters edge and sit and wait. The spot is always chosen where others are out enjoying the storm. I always write Annies name in the sand in front of me and wait. I wait for the rising waters to wash away her name as the tears stream down my face. No one else can see the tears because of the rain pounding on everything.

It would be so easy to just get up and walk out into the water and never be seen again. But then what? There is no guarantee I would see her again. Nor is there a guarantee that the memories I have of her would still be memories, or would there be nothing but darkness? The risk of losing those memories, which are the only thing that keeps me going every day is too much to consider.

So, when the tears finally subside, I get up and leave. There will be another storm and then I will be back to write her name in the sand once more.