I took a walk by the beach today, watched the little kids run and jump in the waves, the teenagers scurry away as the tide pulled in. I looked for crabs between the chunks of seaweed on the shore, listened to the quiet loudness of the ocean—the sheer magnitude of something I barely know both terrifies and entrances me. In the stillness, I let the wind ruffle my hair, let the sun kiss my cheeks, let memories wash over me.
And I thought of you.
And how, in that moment, the only thing I was missing was your hand in mine.
The sun was brilliant today. One of those days that taste of summer, even in the middle of January. One of those days where people put on their dresses and shorts and floppy hats and sit outside sipping cocktails pretending that it’s June.
One of those days where I realized that all I could ever ask for is this—is us—standing on that pier, or sharing a towel on the beach, or sipping lattes at that little corner coffee shop, or all the tiny, simple things—for the rest of our lives.
That’s how you know it’s real, I think. When suddenly the world feels right. You aren’t searching, aren’t scared, aren’t looking around and wondering how, or whether everything will fall into place.
And that person could be standing next to you, or on the other side of the country, but when you take a breath, you realize there’s only one thing that makes sense—and that’s them being yours.
So I stood there for a moment, listened to the waves billow up and crash into the pier. I imagined you with me, what you would say, or maybe how our mutual silence would be perfect somehow. I thought about what you might be doing, how you might be fishing on a pier just like the one I was standing on, looking at a different ocean but still sharing the same sky.
I closed my eyes, remembered the soft brush of your hand on my waist. I shifted my face to the sun so I could let the rays kiss my forehead just like you always do. And I thought about how wildly beautiful it is that we were once just strangers, wandering around this earth without the taste of each other’s names on our tongues. How life simply happens, love simply happens. Especially when we’re not looking.
I thought about how there is so much you can’t understand, can’t predict, can’t plan for.
But loving you—that’s the only plan I have.