text: I watch the beach and try to think of happy thoughts, but like the waves, they come and go. My cheeks are sun kissed, and my lips taste of salt water, and days like these slip away like rainstorms. &#x200B; In my foggy memories you are mine. You sit next to me on this beach on my blanket in my daydreams. How did I lose something that was never mine? &#x200B; I like to pretend I’m in a movie sometimes. I imagine that someone would want to photograph me. I crave it. I think I'd look nice in a photo here. With my pink blanket with woven diamonds on it, my brown basket, and my black and white striped swimsuit. I think the reason I crave a photo is so I can double check that I'm real, double check that I'm here. Days like this feel like rainstorms that don't feel real. I wonder if the inside of my body still works the same when I'm in a place I love, a place I try to love at least. &#x200B; I should be happy, just like the waves should keep coming up until they touch the edge of my blanket; but they never do. Gravity just pulls the white caps back. I close my eyes and try to be content with the darkness, but the darkness never comes because the sun is so bright it peaks through my closed eyelids. I grab a towel out my basket and put it over my face and lay down. I wish I could make time stand still, appreciate this moment, and be content with the day, but my body fights against the current and pushes me to sit back up and take the towel off my face. I sit up in the sunlight again before I find my body standing up and walking to the water. &#x200B; I stand where the sand first meets the lips of the ocean. Anytime I'm here I always count how long my footprint can leave a clean imprint until the wave washes it away. One, two, three, and gone. The waves go away, but they always come back, just like my thoughts of you, which were gone for so long this time. I walk further from my blanket and basket, and I swim underneath the ocean's tongue. When I stand up I am only knee deep, but when I get on my knees my head goes all the way underwater. It feels so good to let my hair get wet, to feel my crown get washed off and go back to wild. &#x200B; I wish I was one of those people who could open their eyes underwater, but alas, I cannot stand the burning sensation. I wonder what the ocean looks like while you swim in it. I wonder if looking at the water is like looking through a mirror that your reflection isn't in. I wonder how different it is from looking at a pool underwater. I bet the difference is like my brain without the thought of you, like a warm, sunny day that I could actually appreciate.