I tried my best to fight the sunrise today. I do not want it to be one day closer to the day you pack up and leave this place, like you packed up and left me - but it is. What scares me is that I know you will love the south. I know that one evening when I’m out at the bar, someone will mention you and how you’ve decided to permanently reside there. You’ll trade in this noisy city for an ocean view apartment that you’ll gaze out at each morning and feel those things you’ve always tried to explain to me when we went on vacation and you stood in awe staring at the Atlantic. It’s not that I didn’t care, love. I was caught up in my own moment. You’re the only person I know that can look at things the way that you do. You can’t see what I see when I see you seeing things. If I could say that any better, I would. While you got lost in the waves and took in the salty air as you struggled for the perfect words to describe that perfect feeling, I was overwhelmed by the beauty of your being.

I wish I wasn’t so dismissive about your adamancy to move there. I’ll give you the ocean. I’ll touch your tangly hair and kiss your salty lips every morning. I’ll listen more intently while you find the perfect words for that perfect feeling. I’ll tolerate those damn sea gulls. This time I mean it.