We spend three days by the sea because the water is where we heal and also where we remember. For you, it’s the surf, for me, it's the lake, the salt and sediment running through our veins, having the power to stop and start a heart beating.
At the bar with the wall of wine bottles, Bob Dylan sings and we muse about change while bringing red to our lips, while taking selfies. I say we should record the night because what if this is it and we want to look back (but also what if we don’t)? Getting here has felt difficult, altering our chemistry and any future we’d envisioned, but this next step swallows the air. A million what-ifs and a million fears. How do people do this? And when will it end?
I want to say all of this, but instead, we pay our tab and find the stairs to the beach, leave our shoes on the sand. The water soaks our jeans, and you follow me, but only until the water hits your knees. I’m tempted to swim out, to test the horizon line and let t…
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