"You have to push through it," she persisted, "... because there is no other choice." 

I've contemplated about the other choice and I'm not going to lie, it sounds better than pushing through this. We stood on the pier as the sun rises to noon. She goes on with sympathy and I genuinely love her for it. She has been my rock. But I phased out two sentences ago.

The tides are low due to the rain last night. The very little rain California gets to experience. We've been watching a strange Aussie methodically draw these symmetrical patterns on the sand. His amazing accuracy. Too bad the tides will wash it all away in less than an hour.

All that effort. Gone in a blink of an eye.

And everything else will presume unaffected.

"AJ, did you hear me?" 

I looked at her bewildered, "Whether we remain in the ash or become the phoenix is up to us."