Perhaps likening New Jersey to Eden is a bit ridiculous. In fact, many might assume that I’m simply being sarcastic. Honestly though, whenever I go on vacation to Wildwood Crest and Cape May, New Jersey, I feel as though I am returning to a home, from which I’ve long since been evicted. I spend each day on the beach, swimming, reading, and relaxing. At night, I dine at the most luxurious restaurants New Jersey can offer. They are surprisingly impressive for all the New Jersey stigmas. Maybe I’ll tell you more about them as the week progresses.
My family and I arrived today after a six hour journey south. Even though I did nothing more than sit in the backseat of a car and doze off when I could, I am exhausted. Regardless, my parents and I made an effort to walk the beach. It’s a sight we see only once a year. And as a visual and creative mind, I consider it a helluva sight. Most people see the water, the sand, and the sky above. But how few notice the individual bubbles, each lit by a soft ray of the sun, bouncing along the surface of the water only to pop against the dark, speckled side of the shore?
I was so excited to see the ocean churn and swirl, hear the waves thunder, smell the salt in the air, and taste it on my lips. Yet, my thoughts turned sour when I realized I had no one to share that moment with. I watched my parents. My father grew excessively affectionate with my mother: a lingering look, an extra kiss, horribly annoying chatter in the voice of a stubborn toddler. That last one must be some sort of fetish or source of foreplay (Barf! Please kill me). I suspect the same sort of excitement came over him, but I doubt he understood it, let alone experienced it as I did. To him, it must be a whimsical sensation that he welcomes without questioning. For me, it is something I labor over with a dozen whirring thoughts.
Where’s my girl? I think. Where’s my love? Whom can I share these wonderful moments with?
Well, look around. There are a ton of lovely-looking ladies. And since bikinis are basically just lingerie, I can clearly see whom I’m attracted to. But…come on…you know me by now. Would I ever approach a girl? No. If I did, then what? I want a relationship, not a fling. What are the odds that I’ll meet someone who will be close enough to me in order to maintain a healthy relationship? Pretty slim I would think.
Ironically, where did my thoughts go next? Diana. She did text me at 2 am last night. Of course, I was asleep and of course, she didn’t respond after I wrote her a message in the morning. Maybe she’ll respond tomorrow. Maybe.
I wish she was here. I think about how much she and I would struggle to communicate. I think about how awkward she would feel around my parents. I think about all the little comments my family could make. Frankly, I don’t care. I just want to hold her hand on the beach and cuddle with her at night.