Deep Sigh

Maybe if I don’t pick up all the clothes on my floor, if I never wash the smell of Virginia and Cori’s house and the Tonkins and the pool and the sunscreen and the beach sand out . . . maybe it will feel like I didn’t leave at all.

I felt like I was the best version of me there, with them.
I felt alive and hopeful and sad all together, but it wasn’t all blurry.
I felt honest and open, and fiercely protective.
I would die for any of them, too.

I know why Cori was so Cori. It was all of them. Terry and Shauna, Jake, Caleb, Grace . . . Brian . . . even Amy and Sean and Brian T.

I remember the song I listened to last year when I got home from the beach. Dido (yes, I listen to her, get over it. I am a girl and am allowed to have one or two guilty girl pleasures) – the song Sand in My Shoes:

two weeks away feels like the whole world should have changed
but i’m home now, and things still look the same
i think i’ll leave it till tomorrow to unpack, try to forget for one more night
that i’m back in my flat
on the road where the cars never stop going through the night
to a life where i can’t watch the sun set,
i don’t have time, i don’t have time

i’ve still got sand in my shoes
and i can’t shake the thought of you
i should get on, forget you but why would i want to
i know we said goodbye, anything else would have been confused
but i want to see you again

tomorrow’s back to work and down to sanity
should run a bath and then clear up the mess i made before i left here
try to remind myself that i was happy before i knew
that i could get on a plane and fly away
from the road where the cars never stop going through the night
to a life where i can watch the sun set
and take my time, take all our time
two weeks away, all it takes, to change and turn me around
i’ve fallen i walked away, and never said, that i wanted to see you again

i’ve still got sand in my shoes and i can’t shake the thought of you
i should get on, forget you but why would i want to
i know we said goodbye, anything else would have been confused
but i want to see you again

Some of the sentiments are obviously false in my case, so I should have cut them out, but . . . it makes sense too . . .

Blah. If anyone tries to psycho-analyze this, I’ll kill them with my bare hands. It’s called loneliness, realizing that someone you loved more than life isn’t alive anymore. It’s the realization that the pain has numbed a little and wondering if that means that you loved her less.
It’s spending time with people who loved her and realizing you love them too, so much it hurts.

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