dor de mare

it's true there's much nicer beachfronts than the black sea. for years, in fact, i shunned its peculiar charms, having discovered places abroad that are cheaper, cleaner, and overall just more appealing for a little r&r by the water.

and yet.

ever since i returned from sunny alicante, i've had in me this undeniable longing for it. i dare say, it's a rather specific thing. it's not wanting any random sea swim, though i had a good number of those (and weren't they quite special) in the mediterranean just now. long, sprawling, warm enough to lose yourself. do you find each sea carries its own memories with it, or are you too busy forgetting your own inside the water?

i carried mine a little while these few days in spain, but it seems i must've carried them well, 'cause ever since i've come home, i've been in a shed and renew moment.
is it the benefit of spring?
i think periodically, there comes an inner calling that tugs at the old strings and outlines what you no longer need. i've felt that very acutely these past couple of days, and not in relation to any one particular memory or place in my past.

it's just... this great big time of shedding, i suppose.

it's funny, all the way you thought things mattered, and they didn't really. i find myself growing tired with my own self-imposed rules, my careful, lovingly-crafted, but stifling nonetheless order which i've imposed upon myself.

i thought for such a long time i could control my circumstances.

i don't think that when i'm swimming in the sea. and maybe it was these past few days of swimming triggering my switch. i've felt more closely tied into what i need since coming back. this strange, almost frightening clarity about what i want and what i need. paired with a strong shiver of debilitation in my right arm. a chink in my mannish armor, or a banal pinched nerve?

i want to dance. it occurs to me it's been much too long since i've been out dancing, and awed by the clarity with which my wants and needs suddenly speak to me, i wonder if i've a choice but to obey.

and i want, more than all, to head for the beach. there's something very specific which comes, i suppose, from being a child (still?). the feeling of being on a shitty romanian train, headed for the seaside. the airlessness, the interminable, past-counting nowhere stops that precede your own. the ticket inspector arguing with some kids about rules and about life. the warm cheese pastries clutched inside a paper bag.

and then, the feeling that comes with presence, despite the loud, despite the kitsch, despite the dirty, busy beach. the quiet voice that informs you you can afford to just be here for a few days now. be here now.

i love any beach. but there's nothing that quite compares to being on our beach, and it's nothing you could explain to a stranger, unless they happened to share these very specific memories and missings with you. unless they, also, were in a sense, shedding things.

i realized, in alicante, there's parts of myself i don't want to be anymore. that don't resonate anymore. it's a knowledge, i think, i've carried with myself a long time, but until now, more like a fear than an actual want. there's not much pleasure in the thought of shedding skin, but there is, i promise, in the act.

just a quiet understanding that it is, indeed, time. that you've hauled around the past long enough, and you can let go now.

for a long time, i didn't know where to put them down. these things i knew i no longer needed, that were no longer a part of me. and it might now sound like much to you - so what if you hauled around one or two unneeded things? but for me, memory and past know no half-measure, are often so...all-consuming.

once, i staked my identity on loss, and for a very long time, i didn't understand when people who cared about me told me there was more to the story than just what was lost. same on old, sallow "how could yous".

letting go, like the first swim of the season, feels less about the past, less about what's on the shore, and more about what you're bringing into the water with you. why care? it's back there, and unlike the real world, you're not going back to old shores.

i feel, these last few weeks, such incredible freedom from all i no longer need or recognize within myself.

i think soon, i might like to go to the beach. here. in romania. with music. with sand on the hotel floor and between my toes. with salt inside my teeth. i thought i could keep order, but now realizing there's so much outside of my control, i feel this unbearable urge toward freedom, toward the open water, towards realizing that despite the shit and despite the loss, i made myself clean long ago.
time to swim myself accordingly.

i know it's too late for tuesday, but i've peppered this post with songs that taste like the feeling i'm describing. at least to me.