Not To Give Up On You

Eternity With Ocean's Tides

Her hair was as red as the sun setting over the glass texture of the marbled ocean. Its color being reflecting in the rippled waves that cascaded along her face. Not abrupt, man-made swells, but rather natural ones that flow from unknown origin. The hairs outnumbered the stars emerging in the sky, post sunset, each unique in its length, weight and curve. Her bangs washed up on a milky, white shore of a temple, littered in fine pebbles of freckles which refused to be hidden. Her features greatly resembled the graceful dunes, rising and falling with elegance. Never a sharp angle, but smooth rounded ends. Her nose peaked with sophistication and her cheeks churned and changed along with her emotions. The erosion from the years of wear was small as shown in wrinkles, but it told the history of landscape, beautiful in its age. This beach that you would believe could only be conjured up in the midst of a wondrous dream was soon to be wrecked by hardship. A great storm was brewing between the waterfront and her partner, the one she had been separated from in the beginning of time by God himself. The land and the atmosphere had a relationship like no other. They were completely dependent on each other in everything they did, feeding off of each other's moves to make one of their own. It was a beautiful connection, truly a sight to marvel at, until his wind took up speed. As all in a working relationship, his quick change in temper resulted in a chain reaction to ruin both's spirit. His wind stirred up wave upon oversized wave of emotion, corroding the beautiful beach that had rested so easily just days before. Tears of that bitter water rushed down her face. Her dunes of features became sharper as she became gaunter. The water that rushed brought upon more wrinkles. All because of the funneling of wind in the wrong means. Many see what ruins a storm can cause, but they neglect to see how the atmosphere resurrects the relationship. It's a gentle process. His wind came in soft gusts and brushed upon the dunes of her face. His hands brushed away the tears to stop the destruction. He was like a sculptor with his clay. Over days and months he shaped away, reconstructing the striking dunes to their former beauty. This process could be done by others, but none could do it as flawlessly as the beaches' partner. This cycle was one of true love and it is repeated over and over again throughout the lives of two beings intertwined with each other. Whether it be two substances, two processes, or two people, the course never changes. One cannot go on without the other. They are so much better together. Though these two beings are stuck in the storm currently, they will build each other back up from their lows. They will build up a fortress too strong to be penetrated by outside forces. It will all be good. This is the story of Reba McEntire and Narvel Blackstock.