The sound is harder to bare then what happened. My chest is empty except that rock you replaced with my heart. Substitute's are the worst. They aren't the real form and are only temporary, right? How would I know. We used to skip stones and others would say it's our "thing"

Well, I wouldn't skip, them. I could never get it right. You always said "It's all in the flick of the wrist." Then gently skip the rock 4, 9 or 13 times in a row. Each time with clear focus, like it was a goal to you. Like you were searching for something that you lost. Like you accidently skipped the wrong stone that was never to be seen again ever, and the more stones you tossed, the more closer that goal was to you. But no, you had no goal. 

The rain poured in a steady pace, filling the lake with more water. more regret, more worry. The clouds hung low, trapping anything that wanted to get past with the intent of never leaving, staying. The rock was nothing upon gazing for more then two seconds. It felt heavy with sorrow, big with emotion and dark with emptiness. The stones were buried, under all th rocks you mentally threw at me, covered up all our stones.

I took the heavy rock, weighing it in each hand before chucking it into the lake. Hopefully it won't come back like the stones. This one weighed to much. It probably sank to the bottom, never to be seen again. Good for you