There will always be just one person I could possibly need. I know her like the back of my hand. Like I've never known anyone.
"It's one of those times when I don't feel like my life sucks."
I was carsick, buzzed from the nicotine, and slow from the chronic. I staggered, drunk from a wave of sickness as I chased the waves. There was this fear that comforted me as I measured how closely I approached the ocean. I was a small spec and I never felt more at place. She walked around behind me, holding herself to keep from the cold. I knew she felt the same. You couldn't make out anything but dark, shadowed shapes, the crashing of the waves, our sniffling and shuffling, the small light of a cigarette, and the time slowing after 4am. We couldn't feel our toes and the sky was enormous. And everything was enormous. I could stay a small spec, I thought. We could go to beaches, and she could dig herself into holes, and I could chase those waves. We can forget about things like the feeling of our toes and just walk along.
