My Happy Place

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The beach will always be my happy place. I can remember seeing it for the first time when I was a little girl. Sandwiched in the middle of the backseat of a Volvo, I drove with my family from AZ to CA. The sprawls of scorching hot desert that stretched for miles and miles felt endless. My eyes lazily chased the scenery as it flew past the car window. After so many, "Are we there yet's?" and so many stop-and-rewinds on my Sony Walkman of Ty Herndon's "What Mattered Most", there was finally relief. The air had changed, and butterflies filled my belly.
We rolled the windows down. I could smell the ocean air. I could feel the salt on my skin. And I could see the most magical stretch of blue over the horizon. It was love at first sight.
After all this time, I can't help but return to this spot every year. To fill my soul just like it did that very first time at five years old. Like every requited love might feel - butterflies, relief, gravitational pulls and magic.