You know what I secretly love about Caleb? He can be ridiculously, childishly impulsive. Like me. And I never see it coming. So he waited for Lochlan too and we went off for brunch. Only we were late and so brunch became midnight dinner.
In Montauk.
A place I have come to find sacred, safe and calming. Which is crazy because it's right next to a city that runs at a pace that leaves me breathless and then you drive for a few hours and boom. Silence. Surf. Sand.
And they were nice to each other. I started to get nervous and tired and kind of lost my shit at the end of what turned out to be a long day. I am famous for travelling much like a four-year-old in that I need breaks and distractions and I get overwhelmed and worn out so fast my composure dissolves just as I'm told to put on nice clothes because we're headed somewhere exclusive and difficult to get into.
And they stopped on a dime and turned and Caleb arranged take-out instead and we ate on the beach just down below the place he rented, which isn't all that far from the place Lochlan and I stay when we come here alone.
After dinner I put my head against Lochlan's shoulder and I was out like a light and I woke up this morning and it wasn't actually a dream. Especially since I woke up alone. I smell burnt toast and hear the low laughter and head downstairs in yesterday's dress and they're making breakfast, faces clearly disappointed as they were going to bring it upstairs for me but I beat them to the punch by showing up before it was ready.
Fucking 1979 is playing on the stereo and becomes the song of the summer, just like that. Only it's still The Contortionist's version, thank heavens.
There are bags on the table. Clothes. Caleb kisses my forehead as I peek inside but then breakfast is ready so I resolve to eat quickly and get ready so I can have as much beach as possible before we have to go. He and Lochlan are already ready, dressed almost alike in black t-shirts and black shorts. Damn. I'm so lucky.
Why here? I asked last night over candlelit sand, my voice slowed by the heavy red wine. Lochlan had excused himself for a moment and we were alone.
Because you needed an adventure and I didn't think another shot at Nevada was a good plan.
New York is so far though. Could have gone to Oregon.
He shrugged. And we could have gone to Bali. Pick a beach anywhere in the world. It's not the same. Besides, we can go to the fair today.
Why did you bring Lochlan?
He's your comfort object. Imagine the meltdown if I hadn't.
True. I stick my face in the glass and hope to drown. Who wants to imagine that?
In Montauk.
A place I have come to find sacred, safe and calming. Which is crazy because it's right next to a city that runs at a pace that leaves me breathless and then you drive for a few hours and boom. Silence. Surf. Sand.
And they were nice to each other. I started to get nervous and tired and kind of lost my shit at the end of what turned out to be a long day. I am famous for travelling much like a four-year-old in that I need breaks and distractions and I get overwhelmed and worn out so fast my composure dissolves just as I'm told to put on nice clothes because we're headed somewhere exclusive and difficult to get into.
And they stopped on a dime and turned and Caleb arranged take-out instead and we ate on the beach just down below the place he rented, which isn't all that far from the place Lochlan and I stay when we come here alone.
After dinner I put my head against Lochlan's shoulder and I was out like a light and I woke up this morning and it wasn't actually a dream. Especially since I woke up alone. I smell burnt toast and hear the low laughter and head downstairs in yesterday's dress and they're making breakfast, faces clearly disappointed as they were going to bring it upstairs for me but I beat them to the punch by showing up before it was ready.
Fucking 1979 is playing on the stereo and becomes the song of the summer, just like that. Only it's still The Contortionist's version, thank heavens.
There are bags on the table. Clothes. Caleb kisses my forehead as I peek inside but then breakfast is ready so I resolve to eat quickly and get ready so I can have as much beach as possible before we have to go. He and Lochlan are already ready, dressed almost alike in black t-shirts and black shorts. Damn. I'm so lucky.
Why here? I asked last night over candlelit sand, my voice slowed by the heavy red wine. Lochlan had excused himself for a moment and we were alone.
Because you needed an adventure and I didn't think another shot at Nevada was a good plan.
New York is so far though. Could have gone to Oregon.
He shrugged. And we could have gone to Bali. Pick a beach anywhere in the world. It's not the same. Besides, we can go to the fair today.
Why did you bring Lochlan?
He's your comfort object. Imagine the meltdown if I hadn't.
True. I stick my face in the glass and hope to drown. Who wants to imagine that?