Even without seeing her face, I know that the woman standing by the shore is desperately sad. Her shoulders slumped, perhaps from the weight of regret. It kills me that part of this is my fault, and that's why it's hard for me to look at her. I lean against the tree trunk and close my eyes. My life will always begin and end with this woman, and I can’t watch her heart break. I can’t stand still, so I start walking from side to side. Is she still waiting for him or has he already left? Fear runs through my veins. Most of all I want her to be happy. If it gets too hard, I'll have to leave again. I exhale, frustrated by the whole situation. Emerson Hart is the love of my life. And unfortunately, I am not her only love. This is the whole problem.