I wake before the sun. This isn't new for me, but I'm much more at peace with it these days. My apartment is quiet in the mornings. I walk her walls in silence as my arms brush her corners. As my bare feet learn the grooves of the floor. My eyes come into focus as they begin to understand the way the light falls through the glass. As they memorize the shapes and curves of this new furniture. We're still introducing ourselves to each other and I'm in love with the slow pace of our courtship.

My evenings are just as quiet. They simply exist in different light. When my day is finished I walk the short distance until my feet reach the sand. The beach is wide, and I savor every footstep; my eyes greedily taking in the horizon as I close in on the sea. I stop at the edge of the surf and setup my chair. Sometimes I read. Sometimes I revisit the words I've been writing for the last few months but haven't published. Because they're not ready yet. Because they're still mine. But mostly I watch the water. And the birds gliding across its surface. I watch the steady rhythm of each inhale and exhale of the ocean. The white crash as the waves spray salt upon my face. It feels good to be home.

My happiest moments as a girl were on these beaches. Swimming in these waters. The first time I met the sea was standing on the coast of California. Back when my sister still smiled. When my mother's love was undoubted. Our skin was dark from the sun. Our curls were wild and unruly and highlighted blond from long days on the water. This was back when we still laughed. This was back when every weekend was an adventure of how little money we could spend factored by how much fun we could have. We'd climb the roof of our apartment building until we could just barely see the drive-in movie screen in the distance. We'd tune the transistor radio to the AM station playing the audio as we unwrapped trophy bags of Sour Patch Kids and Twizzlers. I'd laugh at the wrong time of every punchline - too young to understand but desperate to belong. My mother and sister would soften their eyes and smile at each other during the sweet parts. I will never stop trying to return to those warm rooftops.

This city and this new apartment are my refuge. I was ready to come full circle. Perhaps back to where I always belonged despite all the seeking I've done. Despite all the living. Despite all the loving. Because he told me he loved me and I left anyways. I left anyways. So instead I'm living through the things that bring me life. Like fresh cut roses on my coffee table. And loose-leaf tea steeping in the morning. Sandalwood incense and singing bowls as the sun rises. Reading novel after novel as the day comes to an end. I am in love - I am obsessed - with these small moments. These little punctuations of life that make me whole. And if I ever lose those I know that I can return. I know that it will always be there. I know I will always have the sea.