All Along

I open the door and lean over the edge of the patio. I breathe in the sea air. As if leaning a few inches further forward will allow me to smell even more deeply.

All Along

Weary, relieved, I set down my bags.

I am pulled immediately to the porch door, by the horizon. I open the door and lean over the edge of the patio. I breathe in the sea air. As if leaning a few inches further forward will allow me to smell even more deeply.

This is where I was headed all along. On this 10-week pilgrimage across the country, and then across a new state. This is the place I’ve been telling myself could exist, This place surrounded by big water, my favorite companion. With her close by, I knew I could get through anything.

And I am. I am moving through heartbreak, deeper than anything I’ve ever felt. I am unmoored, discovering that my multi-year search for a new homeland has turned into a pilgrimage and I don’t know when it’ll be over. So many of the people and places that have held me are gone, vaporous. Even the ones that I really depended on.