I thought I had written more.
I’ve been writing Love Letters but sometimes I’m too deep in my thoughts and it’s too heavy and you don’t want to send that.
We were one of the first ones on the cruise.
Sebastián and I explored the ship back and forth but left the bottom half to be explored later. We got to our toom and the parents were still out. We hung out and watched the water undeneath us. The boat is so still. Like a building.
There’s a certain unease. Maybe its just me.
A discomfort. A guilt to so much unnecessary luxury. I make a mental note to be grateful at every moment, but make this my last cruise really.
It’s beautiful. The boat isn’t moving so we go indoors and I propose we write a song. We try to but right at that moment our parents arrive and then we have to do the lifejacket drill. And then the ship takes off and I breathe.
My shifting discomfort had been holding its breath to this point. There is something effortless about emotionally processing on a moving vessel. It’s as if the processing is more easily done. As if it comes better. You go through it and it goes through you.
I think about my future and my present. I release my past. I see how I’m coming full circle. I feel the wave. I slow my breaths.
I am uncomfortable in the lap of luxury, but I allow myself to feel tended to, taken care of, loved. I enjoy my family. I coax myself into what is coming. I realize. I inhale.
Inhale sea water.