Post by Misha
Everyone in California is having an affair with the ocean except for me.
It’s true. I arrive at the beach whole and full, fancying myself one with the sea like those girls with the shiny skin and salted hair, but I leave like a piece of glass washed up on the shore, the sand and wind and salt having had their way with me little by little until I am raw and missing my edges.
I wish I could get in on the romance, but it’s like the water wants to take a little piece of me with it into its deepest home, and I just know that if I stay too long it’ll only turn me back into dust.