Sometimes i honestly worry about myself. I dream too much. I convince myself that every impossibility in the world is not a problem, but just a minor setback.
I sat on the beach in the morning by myself, and watched the sun rise. I got angry at the horizon for being where it was and strained my eyes to see over that place where the water meets the sky. I wondered what i would see if i could make a split between the two. If the water and the sky were to break apart at the horizon, which i made myself believe was not an optical illusion, i might see some sort of other world. Or heaven. Or hell. Whatever may lie beyond what is here and now.
I sat on the beach in the afternoon by myself, in the blazing sunlight, and was completely conscious of the lack of interest this held for my skin. The sun doesn't affect my skin. It's paleness has always been, and probably will always be, my constant color. Even though i didn't use any sunblock the entire weekend.
I watched everyone on the beach playing volleyball, or laying out, or splashing each other in the waves and i felt very disconnected. I sat on the edge of the water and made a drip castle with the sand onto my leg so that it wouldn't be washed away by the waves that just barely reached me. I thought about how cute that little drip castle was and how it looked like the castle in "The Little Mermaid." I kept wishing that being a mermaid were possible, because the ocean is so beautiful, and that small drip castle was so lovely that it deserved to be real.
I laid in the dry sand and felt its millions of tiny grains coating my hair, as the sun was nearly set. I was absentmindedly doodling something in the sand next to me while i quietly sang "New Year" by Death Cab for Cutie. Only upon looking at the actual sand in which i was writing, did i notice i had been tracing Simon's name. I continued singing Ben Gibbard's lyrics to myself and stumbled upon a few lines that went "I wish the world was flat like the old days, when i could travel just by folding the map. There'd be no airplanes or speed trains or freeways, there'd be no distance that could hold us back," and laughed about how appropriate those words are. I imagined to myself that if i could just wish hard enough, then i wouldn't be watching the most beautiful sunset of my lifetime, alone.
Then it was nighttime. It was much past midnight and the sun was dead and gone, not to be resurrected till morning and the moon and the stars in its place. The heat of the day was forgotten as a wind blew over my face, and made the sand just barely dance up in acknowledgement of its presence. I thought about where i was, and who i was with, and my friendships, and my family, and my relationship, and who i am as a person, and i thought about the things that would last, and the things that i wish would last, and the things that won't.
The night ended and i eventually left the beach. Because a night can't last forever. Just like my friend and I got in a fight and have drifted since, as not all friendships last forever.
But the sun came up on that next day, and i saw my family again. The night was beautiful without the sun, and my trip away from home was a pleasant one, but i was happy to see the sun, and my parents, again. They won't always be there, bearing down on me, but neither the sun nor my family are ever truly gone, i just won't always see them.
The night and the day both past, and always i had my love. So far away from me but still so constant, until one day when the space between disappears, and every hour and every day and every night will creep on and mean nothing to me, because i won't have anything to lose to that steady procession of days. Because i won't be alone to watch them.
And as for who i am as a person? I suppose i don't fully know yet. But i hope I'll have time to find out.
And until then, I'm perfectly content to spend my time contemplating all the impossibilities.
-Alyssa
