In Memoriam: Fuck the Ocean, the Universe, and Any Cosmic Entity

     Shortly after I wrote the last post, I went to California, on a road trip, in my new Mazda, with Nick.

    I wanted to go to Coronado, but I was afraid. Afraid because the beach Dani and I used to go to all the time was going to prop up memories. Afraid to do it alone, but afraid to do it with Nick. I wasn't sure how I'd react, and I wasn't sure he'd be helpful. Not even I know what to do with my grief. How could an outsider know, even one who knows me best?

    A little secret: sometimes I blame Nick for the accident.

    That's not fair, and that's not true, but in my most irrational moments, I can trace the fault lines all the way back to him on that day, and I can trace them back even farther.

    I moved into my new place that day, he came to see it, left and said we should get dinner. I was sweaty. I'd been cleaning all day. It wasn't a fancy place, but it didn't feel right to go to my first dinner as a renter with sweaty clothes. I decided to go to the house to change.

    The entire drive. Different routes compelled me. I rejected all of them. We know how this story goes.

    You see? If I trace the fault lines back. It could be Nick's fault. If I trace them back in the cruelest way, blaming the best person in my life for the worst thing in my life, am I reverting? I get so sad that I get angry, and then the anger needs to go somewhere, and he is the easiest target.

    I didn't want to take him there. It was our place. But I don't know if I can handle it alone. We went to Butterfly Beach, because the first time we went to Coronado together, Nick didn't like how many people were there. I explained that it was a warmer weather day, and there were miles of beach without people, but... I guess my arguments didn't do anything.

    I want to go to Coronado alone. But I'm afraid.

    Butterfly Beach should've been on my bucket list. It was nice, and small, and quiet. I didn't like it that much. The sand was too close to the waves. It was... claustrophobic. I didn't realize it, but I like people at the beach. I like people laughing and playing. The sounds of happiness lull me into sleep the way the waves do.

    I have a confession: I have a beach bucket list, but I was so afraid of my reaction-- it was going to be my first time in the ocean since-- that I didn't get in the ocean until we were down to the wire for time.

    And I was mad. I wandered the ocean's shoreline. I barely wanted it to touch my feet. I threw rocks in it and would've yelled if it weren't for the small handful of people that had gathered by noon. I was angry. I cried. I didn't know what to do. I love the ocean. But I knew that things can get taken away too soon, and I was angry at the ocean. For all my love for her and Dani, there was nothing the cosmic universe could've done? No good karma to come my way? Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada. The universe was a crock of shit.

    When I do turn and burns, it's maximize beach time, minimize driving. But Nick wanted to walk on a boardwalk. I drove the five hours to California. I drove the three hours to Venice. He drove the two hours to Redlands. And the five hours home. Fifteen hours driving. I love him; he has no idea how to do a turn and burn properly.

    Even though it wasn't to Coronado, I still cried. I cried and I cried, and I cried because I don't know this car, and I cried because she's unfamiliar, I cried because she's not broken and I don't know what to do with something that is fine. I cried because I promised Dani we'd be together and I broke her. I don't like things that are fine, because I break them. When I wanted to tint Dani, I did it with forty dollar tint. When I did it wrong, it was only aesthetics. I owned her outright, and what I did with her was my business.

    I'm going to go to Coronado. Maybe I can forgive the ocean, the universe, and myself. Because I still haven't forgiven myself, and that's why I keep trying to blame a cosmic entity, or my favorite person. I still haven't forgiven myself, and that's why I get so mad when I get so sad. I cried so hard about Dani today that my ear popped and made a high pitched ringing sound for an hour.

    It felt wrong to enjoy a day at the beach without her.

    I guess that makes this blog just a beach blog. I'm not changing the bio though.