No Beach-Napping Virgin

So, I haven't blogged in awhile... maybe that's my problem. In fact, I'm sure that it is. How can a person be wholly satisfied with with their life, their job, their place in the universe if they have not been blogging? :)

The past few weeks have been interesting. I went to Galveston to see some college buddies and mostly enjoyed the weekend. Didn't get to talk to any of them like I wanted to... I was the fifth wheel so that inhibited any quality time with my best friend. A little frustrating since I had important things to speak with her about. I am happy for her though because she is happy and he is a good man.

While in Galveston, I walked the beach by myself. It was amazing. I've been to St. Martin and seen the beauty of the beaches and water their so Galveston is not that impressive, but no matter what part of the ocean you're at you can't help respect the awe and majesty of the waves. Their power. Wow. Puts you in your place. I swam out respectably far and enjoyed the feeling of the current of one wave pulling back from the shore as another came riding in. Awesome.

I also took my first nap on the beach... that's right, I'm no longer a beach-napping virgin. I've heard people talk about taking naps on the beach, but wow! It was great. Before the weekend was over, I ended up taking two naps on the beach.

There's lots for the broken hearted to say about the ocean. It is telling... if only it was so easy to wipe a slate clean, as the waves do the impressions left from people on the sand, life would be easier. However, I'm afraid that we wouldn't learn much that way and we would end up perpetuating the same mistakes. Funny... many people do anyway, even with the knowledge of their previous follies. And, I must ask for your forgiveness now because I'm about to make a terribly cliche analogy, but the ocean is much like love in that it demands respect and commands so much power. It can be wholly enjoyable or completely miserable. And sometimes, you're so caught up in the waves that you can't tell the difference.

Being in Galveston was hard. I am still suffering the reprocussions. Tired of sifting through the same thoughts regarding the same situation... it was hard being there because We used to go there together. My friends did not understand... its impossible for them too. And the weekend was spent driving past places in south Houston that We used to frequent with his family. Its the first time I have been back since the "D."

And I long to be like the sand... so easily wiped clean of it's iniquities and impurities, it's scars. An empty slate with no recolection of the previous writings on the wall.