My mind was awake before my eyes were open. I felt a wave of sadness fall over me. I breathed slowly as it hit, embracing the reality that we would be leaving the Caribbean today. Leaving the warm air, leaving the aqua waters and the bright sea creatures, leaving the sailing winds and our sailing boat, leaving each other.
When we landed Scott and I would return to San Diego, Maddie to New York and Danielle and my parents to Orange County. I knew that when I got out of my bed today I would want to sail to a new harbor, not fly back to familiar land. I didn’t feel ready to go back.
Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of things I loved about home. I missed our bed. I missed our kitchen and its helpful appliances. I missed our friends and our neighborhood. I missed burritos. And pathetically enough, I missed the Internet and its marvelous amount of useful and useless information. These things were a comfortable part of my life at home, but I craved more of what I had found here-the uncomfortable moments that came from true adventure.
At the start of this trip I had reflected that the landscape surrounding us seemed familiar, but the more we traveled around and learned about the winds, the seas, the island culture and each other, the more I realized that we were miles away from places that we’ve been before. The feeling was addicting.
I sat up and reached for my journal. With a dull pencil I wrote:
I knew a part of my heart would always be in the waters of the Caribbean Sea.
I will come back someday to find it again.
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