Perhaps it was a simple matter of timing, but my vacation this year barely registered. I even knew when I was there that I wasn't making the most of it. I seemed to just crash. And though I spent days on the beach and in the sea, I wasn't able to let go the way you're supposed to on holidays.
So, I find myself forgetting that I had a holiday at all. And now it's nearing the end of summer and the beginning of those stretched-out golden days I love so much. But part of me feels like this summer was missing something; a feeling like something forgotten in another room, but when you go back to look for it, you can't remember what it was.
The tides of change have been strong the last few months. I feel them pushing me forward and pulling me back. Right now, I relate more to a version of myself from ten years ago than the me I was last year. Like a planet has returned after a long absence and now I'm myself again, but there's stuff to be done and undone before I'll be fully righted.
I moved here ten years ago mostly to be close to a friend who's no longer in my life. It's strange, inhabiting this city, his city, without him. And now I feel like it's more mine than his. And I can't help but notice his absence, though that's not the same as missing him.
I gather things around me and I share some of them here and others not. I might talk about the moon and the sea, about salty lips and how Canadian seasons change the cast of light on my armchair. But there's so much unsaid. About people and places and grief. About my past and the ideas that churn during sleepless nights. The stuff that's beyond sharing in all of us. All our salty depths.
Products: Jackie cardigan from J.Crew | Ondine dress from Lotfi | The Story of Lucy Gault by William Trevor | Sel Marin by James Heeley | Star and anchor necklace from Ylang23 | String bag from Need Supply | Lanvin ballet flats from Barneys