I live beside beauty, I walk in the waves. I hear lions barking, watch them sun on the rocks. I am wrapped in old daydreams, I am missing my tears.
Some part of me wanted to be here. Some part of me thought I should keep my hold on these plans that had so drastically changed. Some part of me thought (!?) if I kept moving forward, I would find him here?
The ocean is cold. I hoard blankets like sheep. I walk to the water, stand on the cliffs. It feels oddly freeing, to just sit and be. I am still startled when seagulls cry.
People are so understanding here. They give me leeway in almost everything. I could probably have a nervous breakdown and it would just be okay. It’s an almost unwanted kind of freedom.
I live in a sunshine that often feels empty. When they ask if I’m excited, I want to ask, “Who? Me?” It’s like my whole existence has been reduced to this entity, who sits on the rocks and tries not to scream.
This instinct for planning is painful to me. The best parts of my future are still achingly incomplete. I didn’t find him here because I carried him with me. I carry him and the world and the world is so heavy.
I live beside beauty. I walk every day. I throw stones in the ocean, I listen for birds. I’m running on empty whilst so full of grief. I am happiest when I remember to cry.