I guess I don't know why coming here brings me peace. The obvious answer would be, it's the beach, what isn't peaceful about that? But it isn't the calming slosh of the shoreline or the gentle breeze through my hair or the warm sand between my toes. It isn't even my new tan I'm sporting from coming here for hours upon hours nearly every day.
It's the thought. The possibility. I look out over the waves onto the horizon of the endless sea of blue. And I think of you. Part of me finds it unbelievably frustrating that I have absolutely no idea where you are in this world, but when I'm here, I am free to imagine that you're here, too, just outside of my reach.
And it's okay to be lonely here. There are plenty of people here by themselves. Reading a book, taking a nap, or simply doing nothing. That's the thing; no one looks at you strangely when you show up to the beach in a military town toting your bookbag and your flip flops in hand. Everyone is missing someone here.
And it was here that I decided I wanted a sailboat. Someday. With you. Someday when we would be able to use it. Both of us. Whenever we wanted. No sea schedule or training or deployment stopping us from waking up one morning and deciding that today, we're sailing away from here for a little while.
But that day is many, many days away, and today, I'm simply sitting at the beach, alone.

"What's it like?"*
Someone asks you on the bus, in line at the supermarket, or over a Sunday cup of tea.
It's a funny feeling; your stomach shifting uneasily and the smile forming on your face simultaneously.
You've done it again. Your lips couldn't help but to frame his name in a conversation that had nothing to do with him. And yet, you still found a way to think of him and mumble his name through a grin and a heavy heart.
So, what's it like?
They mean being away from the one you love, but all you can comprehend is what it is like to love him. And to love him, some days, is your only saving grace. Your safe spot. And yet, at the same time, your Achilles heel. Those parts of your heart are tender with the lonely nights, the constant worry, and the million and one what if's. The fact that you watch a How to Make the Perfect Omelette video at midnight while laying in bed alone, because he is gone, and all you can do to pass the time is plan things for when he comes home. It's a culmination of every night you thought would be the last night without him. It's waking up the next morning to an empty, quiet home, and filling up the air with awful noises that escape from the deepest parts of sadness. It's waking up in a panic saying his name in the middle of the night because you were dreaming of him once again. It's how, anymore, dreams are the only way you see or hear from him.
But love? It's also waking up six hours early the day he comes home, because you're too excited to possibly sleep. It's spending entirely too much time doing your hair and makeup that morning, when you know all he cares about is having you in his arms again. It's seeing his car pull up. It's the butterflies you get and the smile you couldn't stop if you tried. It's running up to him after months of imagining this moment and it being so much more perfect than you ever could have thought. It's feeling him wrap you up in his embrace and finally, finally feeling whole again. It's the second, or the third, or the hundredth "first" kiss.
It's everything.

you came and you went
just like that
you were here
and then you weren't
my calendar reminds me
that we spent 18 days together
but every bone in my body swears
it felt more like 18 hours

i remember seeing your face
across that enormous room
for the first time in months
and everything inside me
set itself on fire
there's really no words to explain
the way that feels
no way that makes sense to someone
who hasn't experienced it themselves

but let me try

it was a little like breathing
for the first time
in a very long time
waking up from a nightmare
and gasping for breath
the comforting realization
that it was only just a dream
it was kind of like that

it was a little like holding your breath
underwater
and finally coming up for fresh air
filling your lungs with sunshine and summer
and being happy
it's simple
it was kind of like that

you think you'll cry but you don't
there is no time for tears
you spent months crying them and
there's simply no place for them any longer
there is only room
for happiness

you'll wake up the next morning
if you ever even fall asleep
and he will startle you
because for months you slept alone
and this body feels unfamiliar and strange
but you love it
and it is home

you will try to find the right words
just as i am now
to tell people about it
how amazing it is
was
and you will fail
you will fail every time
but you try anyway

so yes,
it was a little like that
and a whole lot
like nothing
i have ever experienced
before.

looking back on the distance
all the time spent apart and alone
and worrying
and wondering
feeling as though time
was taking its sweet time
and oh, how it was
i remember i would sit in bed at night
and stare at pictures of you until
my eyes were wet with tears
i realized i couldn't remember your face
the details
i thought of you and i couldn't see it
and the pictures never do you justice
i remember waking up each morning
to the crushing defeat
of another long day without you
ahead of me
crawling back into bed at night
thinking,
my god, this is exhausting,
this marathon of missing you.
and oh, how it was
i remember feeling like the end
was nowhere in sight
and this distance would **** me

and now
the only thing that separates us
is a handful of days
and a layover in charlotte
hours away from you
i'm looking back at the day we said goodbye
and smiling
for once
because we are so incredibly close
to the best hello
these airport walls
have ever seen

May
the first day
of a new month
how
appropriate

May
you used to be my favorite month
the weather turns warm
and the rain subsides
my birthday
graduations
and just a general sense
that things
are getting
better

May
today it is pouring down rain
literally
and metaphorically
I cried for the first time last night
in months
a flood of emotions
that have failed
to remain
repressed

May
although if you asked
I would swear to you
that I am still stuck
in January
how have 5 months passed already
where has the time gone
and when will the rest of it go
when

May
nothing good will come of you
this year

The day is drawing near
and every year it comes around
every year
the flashbacks saturate every
dark corner of my mind
I've written
and written
and written
about that night so many times
that I can't stand to anymore
you know what happened in that room
and so do I
but now there's someone new
someone who looks at me
and doesn't see your hand prints
on my skin
who doesn't know
that years later
I still carry the weight of that night
on my chest
it sits there while I sleep
counting my breaths
permeating my dreams
enveloping every empty thought
with an unwelcomed thought
of you
I've got so many skeletons
and I would love to say
that they're all buried beneath the dirt
of time
but they aren't
sometimes
they slip out from the closet
and sit right beside me
sometimes
they hold my hand
and sometimes
like today
they crawl inside my skin
and make themselves
at home

It's a strange way to live
watching what feels like everyone
around me be in love
and have their lover
at arms length

I couldn't tell you where mine is right now

I come home and watch my parents
hardly say two words to each other
and think
what I wouldn't give to be able to say
just two words to you
right now

It surely is strange
to feel myself forgetting
your face
your smile
your voice

I force feed myself memories of
the phone calls,
the car rides,
the nights we sat in the bathtub and talked
about anything
the nights we drank ourselves into
oblivion

I missed you so much today that
I called your phone
just to give myself that false hope
for the ten seconds it rang
that you may actually pick up
you didn't pick up

It's been too long
and the cloud of uncertainty hanging over my head
does not allow me to estimate
when it will be
that I am able to do any of these things
again