I realized this morning how much I am missing the coast. It's been a long time since I have honestly been able to say I really want to make a trip to be close to the water. I've been carrying around the fear of traveling. I've associated the bad car accident we had October 11, 2011 with those trips I used to enjoy so much because the accident happened on the way back from one of our trips. Wow. I didn't realize it was that long ago. I've been fearful of traveling that long with even traces of it on the one trip me made to the coast last year. It's been affecting me even recently to the point I didn't want to go. The one trip we made last year felt almost obligatory. It was as if I was trying to convince myself. I like to go, I always enjoy going, I need to do this. Not so much.
It wasn't memorable and probably slightly disappointing. The fear of getting there and getting back overpowered any good takeaway I should have gotten from the trip.
But, somehow, in this quasi winter/spring time we are headed into, I am feeling the real urge to get out to my personal paradise again. No. Really. I'm feeling like I want to go. No thoughts (well, maybe slightly) of getting there and back, but real desires to go because of all the positive reasons I've always had about going. It's almost time and when I can be sure of some consistent warmer temperatures, I will be taking advantage of the place that has always be my retreat, my own personal paradise. Thinking back from now to 2011, I realize what a long time that is to be foolishly fearful.
TT
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