It’s Tuesday and I’m Going to the Beach

It’s Tuesday and I’m going to the beach. I take the train even though I don’t need to. My car is parked directly in front of my apartment building – a rare occurrence – and I couldn’t bring myself to move it. I would describe the parking around my building more by the absence of it. Which is also how I would describe the space I have in my one bedroom, one bathroom apartment – by the absence of it.

Anyway, it’s Tuesday and I’m going to the beach.

Taking the train feels romantic, and I imagine that I have someone waiting for me when I arrive to Cannon Beach. I don’t have anyone waiting for my arrival and no one waiting for my return. I didn’t tell anyone I was going. It feels secretive to keep my travel plans to myself, to not post about it on social media, to keep it out of the group chat. I need to be alone. Really, I need to feel alone.

I sometimes imagine that I’m invisible in crowded places. I smile at strangers and imagine them looking through thin air. I’m not here.

More often though, I observe those around me and wonder what they’re thinking about. I watch their face and how they talk and imagine what they had for breakfast. I think about the car they drive and if they’re happy.

I watch someone who sits diagonally from me. Well, I watch the back of their head. Long black hair left to drape across their shoulders and down their back. They watch It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia on their iPhone. So, we watch it together.

I take breaks from intruding on their personal phone time by looking out the window at the passing sights to think. Honestly, I think too much. I think about my sister and if my parents think she’s better than me. More successful, smarter, better off…

We make it to Cannon Beach. Everyone forms a single-file line to grab their belongings and exit the train. I didn’t bring much, just a tote bag with a book that I won’t open, a journal with a few blank pages left, a towel, chap stick, and my wallet. It’s not quite noon yet, but I head into Pelican Brewing for a beer. I don’t feel bad about drinking this early in the day.

The beer is fine. It’s crisp and refreshing but it doesn’t taste very good. I pay my tab and head to the beach. There’s always things I wish I would have brought with me, like an umbrella or a chair. A bottle of water would have been a really good idea. In all reality, I have exactly what I need to get by, which kind of resembles my attitude toward life.

I’m wearing my swimsuit underneath my clothes, and even though we’re at the beach and most people are in their swimsuit, I feel like everyone’s looking at me. I have to remember that I’m invisible.

I take a few looks back to my stuff as I walk towards the ocean. I’m giving myself a pep-talk about walking into the water. I know it’s going to be cold but my body craves it so bad. The cold water bites my toes and I keep walking. I’m up to my knees and this is when it gets hard to walk normally. I continue wobbling forward until I get to my hips, then I inhale deeply and send myself under..

It’s incredibly liberating.

I don’t go out much deeper because my swimsuit doesn’t handle waves well and there’s a lot of kids around. Where I am is perfect. I glide my hands across the water’s surface and close my eyes. The sensation of the sun on my cooled skin is s e n s a t i o n a l. I stand very still and feel the water flow through me.

I think about sharks and head back to the sand.