I need spring break. Not your typical college spring break with just me and some bffs on a beach in Florida surrounded by half- (if not more) naked drunk people all day. I need a vacation.
I need to escape life for a little bit, just one week, and be alone. I need to reflect on myself and buckle down and get some work done. There are too many distractions around here, and they’re drowning me.
I just want to drive to Florida and live in a small beach house–even a beach shack would do–and spend every day waking up to the sound of the ocean. I would go for a walk on the beach, maybe even a run if I felt up to it. I would lay out with a book, and when it got too hot I’d go inside and write. I’d eat primarily fruit and vegetables dipped in ranch, and I’d buy myself strawberry ice cream for dessert and bundle up in my blanket with a chick flick and turn in early.
Then I’d wake up the next day and do it all over again.
I’d take bike rides into the quiet town and find hidden locations. I wouldn’t have to be with anyone I didn’t want to see–I wouldn’t have to make forced conversation or come up with substantial smalltalk. I’d talk to myself sometimes, but I wouldn’t miss not having another person around to cloud my personal thoughts. It’d just be for one week, anyway. And I’d like to rediscover what I really think.
I’d like to return a changed person. I think this is just the sort of trip that could change me, or perhaps refresh me. I’ve been running pretty low lately and this seems like the perfect solution.
Of course, this isn’t going to happen. It’s not like I have access to a beach house in Florida, or even a car of my own for that matter.
So I guess for now I’m stuck in Ohio, dreading certain people and responsibilities that I’ve never been able to avoid, living this life miserably,
waiting yearning for warmer days and the appearance of the sun.