After a week of not being able to drive to the beach on a whim, I missed it terribly. Today I finally went and it was a bit of a homecoming. It was low tide when I got there. The rocks that the waves usually crash down on were exposed. Seagulls played hop scotch on them, looking for their next meal. Small kids followed their lead, as they skipped around from one mossy rock to another.
The seagulls and children brought out the child in me. I wanted to join them then, but I was too comfortable laying on my stomach, tanning. I was again in another string bikini, which in my boyfriend's words, "is quite a bikini." I'll leave it at that. I'll continue tanning...
Looking up at the sky and out into the vast blue ocean, I felt like I lived in a fish bowl. I felt the most relaxed and comfortable. The warm sand embraced me. I got lost in the magnificent love of the sun. I can't live without it. I can't get enough of it. Don't let the sun go down on me. Don't let the sun go down on me.
'Tis the summer of love, the summer of pain, and the summer of betrayal. 'Tis the summer of pushing things and people to the limit, and testing my own limits. What is gained? What is lost? I am not the same. We are not the same.
Yet, at my favorite playground, my favorite part of the coast, surfing is a constant. Perhaps that's what keeps me coming back. It gives me peace. With the sun blazing after a rainy day, the waves crash loudly and rhythmically along the sandy beach. Soothed and calmed by the sounds of the big blue sea, I laid on my beach towel and blanket wearing my sunflower-yellow bikini, reflecting on days gone by, on my indulgences, experimentations, and abandonment, and the meaning of my days.
Summer may have ended, but the sun continues to shine in L.A., and on me. It's not so bad. Now is a time of contemplation, of healing, of mourning, of rejoicing in love. After the betrayal, the hurt, and pain, love gives us hope, keeps us sane, and invigorates our soul. Love survives. We will prevail.
