First published April 22 2006

I remember the first time i ever went to the beach. I remember how I thought everything about Galveston was beautiful. (I know Galveston is horrible! but it was beautiful then). I played forever in that water, felt the sand beneath my toes. I wasn’t even afraid that I didnt know how to swim because my dad was there and i knew i was safe.

I laid on the sand, facing the ocean. In enough to let the water touch my earlobes, tickling them, the ocean telling its own story. Filled with tears and bottled messages. And my child mind couldn’t help but think how long it took for someone to cry to fill the ocean up. And I wondered if this was where all tears ended up. I knew nothing of life then. I know too much of pain now.

I dream of that day often, of a place where nothing is harder than it seems. I'd like to get away sometime soon, to the beach maybe. Or hide away somewhere where a single battle is lost, but not the whole war....