And right is the decision I’ve made.
In one week, I’ll be leaving Utah. I have decided to move back to South Carolina.
For the summer.
My dad offered me a job and I accepted. It’s the job I did in high school and I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say that, at first, I felt like a complete loser. What do I do, you ask? Oh, I’m 32, single, “jobless,” and moving home. (ohmygosh I hate typing all that.) I also wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t say that the thought of moving back into my parents house may have freaked me out just a little. I mean, I left for college 14 years ago and haven’t lived there for any longer than a week (at the most) of vacation since 2000. i.e. The entirety of my adult life has been somewhat defined by a skyhigh level independence and a large degree of solitude. i.e. How does one “go home” (for an extended period of time) but not move backwards in one’s life?
On the other hand.
It feels right to go. And so I go.
How grateful I am for parents who (despite dad’s best Bill Cosby threats that once we left we were never coming back) would allow me to come home (he’s such a softie). And how grateful I am that there’s a home to go home to.
And really–when else in my life could I just up and take three months to go live at the beach doing a job a 16-year-old could do? I’ve wished since college that I could shirk some of the responsibility of grown-up life and just be free. Now’s my chance. I’ve also always regretted not taking more advantage of the beautiful place I grew up in when I was in it. Now I can.
And ultimately, I can’t deny the healing balm the ocean is to me. My soul is not unlike the dry, cracked desert I live in right now. It needs water. Lots and lots of water.
One summer on an island it is then.
I plan to …
Work on the docks all day, everyday.
Ride my bike everywhere.
Eat plates and plates of seafood.
Take in as many sunrises and sunsets as possible.
Learn to run.
Oh hello summer. I’m coming.