Following the sunset only gets you wet feet.
True. I kept my eye on that path of light and the waves receded and then, they didn’t. I wish I could have dropped everything and waded out and then started to swim. However, that would have been silly. Not to mention frighteningly cold and suicidal. So, I sat on the gravel and cried. I cried for wanting someone to just hold me. For being tired of doing chores because she’ll do them if I don’t, and then I’ll feel guilty. For being mad at myself for taking mum by the shoulders and trying to talk to her about her food choices. For knowing I can’t do a damn thing to keep her from making her own choices. For knowing that all the people who love her do not realise how hard she is to live with in real life. For wishing I could reach the end of the sunset and rest.
People suggest and tell me things I should do. I attempt to do them and they work for a short time or not at all. I so wanted to run away tonight. The beach was as far as I got. The sunset was so alluring and elusive and melted away into the mountains. And I had to come back to the house where my responsibility lies.
And where I have dry socks.