Sunday, June 2, 2013

blue ocean floor.

This morning was rainy. It was cold and sleepy, Savannah. Not a hard rain, just enough to make Sunday morning blurry. Fritz and I sat on a bench at the end of River Street, spending the morning watching the boats roll in. It was something I’ve always wanted to do and now it was happening. Granted, I never thought it would include a bloody mary, a cat on a leash, and a reflection of the sleepless night before heading off to college to the girl staring off into the gray Savannah River, but it felt perfect.

I’d been thinking a lot about bravery and grit, being someone, being one of those girls I had a crush on. Becoming the girl that remembered small details and made people feel welcomed; who mentored young girls, threw notable dinner parties and arranged flowers all while holding the title director of development or creator of a local magazine.

And there I was, a girl in a yellow raincoat with a coffee and a lavender bouquet, roaming the streets of a sleepy city on a rainy morning mulling over thoughts such as risking more than required and letting go of other things simply because they were heavy. I was a girl out of a movie, a character out of the book I was always writing in my head.

It was there, on a bench in Oglethorpe Square that I realized at some point I was going to have to let you go.

So there’s that. 

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