Yesterday I was going through some old journals and I came across this brief account I had written some years ago. I just thought I'd share...


"I’m starting to love driving to the beach at night and staying there for some 2 hours, on my own. I’m starting to enjoy staying there for hours again and it scares the shit out of me. I’m anxious again but once here everything feels perfect. I finish my can of beer, lust over the waves and feel whole again. I’m no longer scared, I’m no longer insecure – I have it perfectly planned out for me – tonight I’ll just go back home and first thing tomorrow I will go and do what needs to be done. 


 I’ll tell him we need to talk and he’ll just stare right back at me, saying nothing. I’ll explain how his actions are breaking my heart and assure him I’m giving him all I have. He’ll look right through me, saying nothing, then starts fidgeting with his keys. I’ll start to wonder why I took the hassle to come over to him and discuss matters/us. As soon as I'll start pressuring him to speak to me - "just say something" - he'll tell me it will all be ok soon and that we’re meant to be so we’ll eventually find ourselves back on the right track again. I'll ask him to assess and fear all the things we're doing to our relationship and to try be better, both of us. I'll ask him to listen but soon find myself lowering my voice as he starts yelling and hissing stuff at me.


I'll get up and walk away. I'll drive to ‘my’ beach. I’m on my own again but it doesn’t feel that wrong. It just feels safe."