Somehow the line between spring and summer has been blurred. Everything seems to be faded together creating a stop in the time though it’s all still moving, and quick; I can’t seem to stop it, I lost all control. My days are much longer and I am being washed by the heat of the sun through my bedroom walls. They are bare now, all the paintings have been packed away in boxes lined up to my door, all I have left is selected books, my bed, and myself in my mind. I think that may all be the reason I seem to be sad again. I didn't want to face it because then it seems too true; to be sad again when I've worked so hard. But, the gloom of June still lingers as we shift into July.
It’s strong like the tide, how it can bring you down in an instant after promising to be so kind.
That last time I stood on the beach wasn’t like the others. This time there was a goodbye and even if it wasn’t forever, it still was there, and it sickened me. I knew it well, and I soaked in all I could, I don't think I could forget. I took my time to feel the sand and how it settled in between my toes, I walked the shore of the water and occasionally felt the waves come wash over my feet, I found seashells buried into the sand, perfect and imperfect but both to keep. I smelt the air and how the scent of salt lingered, I heard the child's laughter mixed with the crashing waves and the moms cameras clicking as they took their pictures because, they too, didn’t want to forget.
It means the most to me to smell all of that again. To touch it, to feel it, to be reminded that even when I move away, it will still be there waiting for me to run back into its embrace. And I never really want to forget. I think that's why I fear goodbyes— one of the many reason is that I don’t want to ever not remember what used to being me joy because when that gloom hits again, and I am sick in my head, it is those moments I recall to give me a reason and everything I have ever loved is a strong enough reason to stay, so when it’s time to say goodbye, not knowing when the next hello will be shared, I ache. Something about showing my sadness when leaving always felt scary, or maybe what feels scary is feeling nostalgia and wishing I can go back and I know I never could go back to any exact moment.
It’s a strange feeling, knowing you’re leaving, knowing that everything you’ve known now is going to change and become memories in your childhood book, the ones you share when you're older to the people you don’t quite know yet. It’s bittersweet to say goodbye to your hometown and right now, I’m a bit too soft for it all.
But that's okay, isn't it?
What does it mean then? That I was touched by life? That I lived one good here? That no matter who I am now, or who I will be in the future, this life here in my hometown will always be a part of me? Maybe that all means that this goodbye is good. That I have found myself lucky enough to look back on my experiences and mourn them because then that means that I, myself, have lived, truly lived, and loved, deeply loved.
And we can’t run from our feelings. I’m still learning that one even though I know it’s true. Everything we are given, we have to face. There is no shame in having tears, or missing someone you’ve never been without. Maybe you think I’m crazy. Maybe you think I hold on to everything too much. I’m a sucker for what I know and a mourner when it’s time for change. But, let me paint it out for you.
I.
You try your best not to think of leaving but it's consuming you like a shadow, it’s poking you like a devil, lingering on your tongue with a sour aftertaste. You try to live in each moment as it is, but can’t help but think, “this could be the last time,” and it could be. This could be the last time you hug them back, this could be the last time you smell the flowers when you walk down that street, this could be the last time you laugh in that house. And slowly you feel yourself disconnect. You can’t help it, it’s just the thing that happens when you let your head run and so later when you get home and you lay in your bed around the walls of your room that feel so cold, so small, you feel a creeping guilt. You should have lived, laughed more, and smiled because what if that was the last time. It wasn’t a proper goodbye.
II.
You’re riding down the streets on your bikes while your phone soundtracks the moment you’re living, already creating a sweet spot inside you to remember forever. It was growing dark but you could still see because of all the lights that lined each block and the pink and orange sky that slowly faded above you. And as you got to the ocean you watch as your friend couldn’t wait to take a picture of the sunset. Rushing off her bike, throwing it down, then running to the shore. You don’t blame her though, it truly is beautiful. And you watch her and the way her body sparked up with joy as she experiences life in its purest form and you feel tender. You wish so badly to freeze time— to stay here beside your friend and never move away because best friends are always meant to stay together. But also because a part of you knows that when you go, you and your friend will grow cold. You both never really were good at keeping in contact. In fact, this was the first time you’d seen her all year but you're still stuck ringing on hope.
III.
When you walked down that same streets, just a year later, you weren't met with that jasmine you used to smell each time when you used to pass regularly. It left and you lost it. You didn’t think of it till that moment; and though it is small, though it may seem meaningless, you still think about how you didn’t get to say goodbye. A real proper goodbye. Oh, and that campground— you don’t remember the last time you camped there being the last time. You always made room in your heart for more though it never really was a promise to happen.
IV.
You’re standing in the house and it is empty. The house that you’ve lived in for years, the same one that was filled with love and laughter, it’s empty. And it hits you, you never are going to see it again. It will live on without you, hold some other families' new moments like a warm hug. Your room, it isn't your room anymore, no it might become an office or a nursery. The wall's color might change, the carpet might be taken out and everything that it ever was will only live in photos and memories that are prone to fading as you live out more of your life. Because you are young, most of your life hasn't been lived. You could fall in and out of love, travel someplace new, chase your dreams you never thought you could chase, and then this house will just become another chapter in that book you said you’d write.
I’m trying to find a way to be okay with this. With letting go and knowing that what I loved doesn't have to die, my hometown will still live on without me, it will still be a part of who I am, who I was, and who I am going to be. All the people I’ve ever loved have shaped me, all the places I have ever been have changed me in some way somehow. And that is me, and no matter what I am, I will always be me at the end of the day. And yes I want to explore. I want to meet new people, try new things, and dream in new places. But, I want to come back home. I want to fall in love, but then I want to bring him home. Show him my hometown and show him my old house where my parents still are, where the pool still sits in the backyard with the smell of the same flowers that still grow and linger.
That won’t happen. Maybe in a few years this new town will feel home to me and I’ll meet new people who make it just as special, but San Diego will always mean the most to me and I’ll never forget the memories we made. I promise.
Here is a list of the things I will do again when I come back:
Stay in a house down by the beach
Sit and listen to the mundane
Drive past all the homes I lived growing up and reminisce
Be unbearable and say, “this used to look different”
Pray that I’ll run into him
Pray that I won’t see him again
Smell the flowers
Watch the sunset bleed all the colors I’ve always loved
Take a risk and do something new
Go back to the art museum because I didn’t do it enough while I could
Collect the seashells again like my Nan and I would when we both were younger
Be free
We sat there on that island in the early evening watching the way the sun slowly set down on the water. Making it sparkle, almost blinding us; and I wanted to tell you everything I have ever dreamed of, and everything I have ever done out of spite, sadness, or anger; how leaving what was the only thing I have ever known would light a flame in my heart— a mad, mad flame that might as well burn, and burn forever; but, I was serious, and it was all hidden in my laughter. Oh, but it was true— how it would about bleed me out to know you care enough to remember. I want you to remember; about that dinner we had, about that joke we made, or that conversation about the future where you spoke and I listened with my whole soul— I’ve always loved the way you softly spoke, and I’ll miss it most, now when I am gone. July 7th, 2024
And this one is for the past.
“The things that I lost here, the people I knew / They got me surrounded for a mile or two”
That is all for this newsletter, thank you very much for reading! If you took anything away from whatever I felt I had to say then it's sure to put a smile on my face. Feel free to subscribe to September's Tears below to keep up on my newsletters in the future.
With all of the love, xoxoxo
i love the way you write, it's so moving and detailed :')
beautifully written