Everything smells wet. I must be fully relaxed now because it doesn’t bother me. At home, things bother me. Our domain on Fire Island is giving us gray and white skies. The lemongrass and eucalyptus oil we apply isn’t a deterrent as much as it a sign of our attempt not to be feasted on while going about the day or sleeping. It’s a ritual that gives me a lot of pleasure because I love scents. I get the same pattern pleasure when sunblock is between my palms. Apply every 90 minutes or as needed; apply 20 minutes prior to sun exposure. Our skin shows exposure to three days worth of sun. My legs feel stronger so I see them as more defined than before we arrived here. I am already thinking about returning to our routine in our new-found glow.
Two evenings ago, about 36 hours into our vacation, J suggested that we venture out for a walk just us two. I went somewhat against my will. Then, I wilted. I still couldn’t cry, but I could admit what I was. The sand was a blanket on my feet. And I watched him swim while I stretched into the 20 minutes of our found freedom. And then, my solitude appeared, shyly at first and then more assertively and it sounded like me.