Nights like tonight make me regret moving away from the beach. I want to lay on the damp sand, breathing in the foggy air, tasting the salt on my tongue until I’m not entirely sure if I’m breathing the air or the ocean. I feel like the land around me is too big, and I can’t center myself without knowing where it ends. I can’t get my balance; every time I think I’m getting myself together and moving in the right direction I fuck something else up and get knocked off balance. Every day I tell myself that things will get better if I just spend more time on myself and with my imaginary friends between the covers of my books. It never quite does. Annnnd now I have to go back to work to fix something I fucked up. Wish I could hear the surf.