I’ve spent so much time on this beach recently. I’m sitting here now, on a piece of decking laid atop two perfectly placed roots of a tree. A seat made for two. Remnants of fires I’ve had with people I love scatter the sand to my right and the rain is starting to come down harder, soaking through my shoes and covering my skin. 

I had been here so many times with you before. I always wondered why you called this spot tucked away a “beach”. A small parking area with only trees in front of it, we would come here when you had a deal to make and that’s all I knew of it. Always the passenger, I couldn’t have even gotten here on my own if I tried because the only times I had been here was in the middle of the night when I was already high. 

This place holds such different memories for me now. Roasting hotdogs and marshmallows with people I never thought would see me as good, looking for shells with the kids, the photo I have on my wall, making a bucket list with one of my best friends, sobbing in his arms on the sand when my head felt like it was spinning out of control, petting horseshoe crabs with my daughter. 

I never knew this was here.

I never knew that behind the wall of trees, there was a path that lead to the water. That there was sand, and shells, and a place to rest. 

This place has been here the whole time. The beach is the place I love the most. And it was here the whole time. 

You never told me. You never showed me what was right in front of me all of these years. A place that could settle my mind, and bring peace to my heart, was hidden when I was with you. 

In some ways I’m glad I never shared this place with you. I don’t think I could come here now if I did. 

That’s how it always was. I was always so close to what I wanted. I was always so close to a happy moment, to safety, but I couldn’t access it. 

That feeling of serenity was blocked, not by trees, but by you. 

This place has become somewhere that I’ve spoken out my deepest fears, a place I have laughed at, a place I have held hands at, a place I have dreamed of the future and made plans to live. 

All the things I tried to do with you. 

The no trespassing sign nailed to the divider at the end is the only thing you have in common with this place. 

I woke up feeling your arms around me this morning. I opened up my phone and unblocked your number, a fleeting thought that if I did, maybe I would have the chance of seeing that you still miss me. That you were trying to reach me. But before I even left the screen, I changed my mind. I blocked it again, finally knowing better, and I came here. 

A place that gives me all that you couldn’t. 

I miss you. But I have been missing you, the person I wanted so badly, since June of 2023. I think part of me always will. 

But I am making new memories. And I’m going to be fine. You always said you would be if I was gone. That life would carry on. 

You were right.