So I finally (finally!) came back. And then I proceeded to become a little ridiculous.
A life of leisure wrapped in a delusion of productivity. Spending money irresponsibly, eating peanut butter on toast multiple times a day, drinking and reuniting almost every night.
This place felt familiar but the unexpected heartache didn't.
In hindsight I had only barely just tippytoed back into reality. The other me was still living in my place.

isla de fuego

Rainiest, coziest, dreamiest. (And mysterious.)
Angry waves, sand in my hair, pastis in the afternoon. Barefoot for dinner, wine before bed. Pitch black nights and soggy, slow mornings. Reading, sleeping, snacking, lazying. Indulgence the way I have only recently learned how.
This unexpected but fortuitous journey to Fire Island was like being tucked under a warm blanket for two rain filled days that felt more like two weeks.
It's starting to feel possible that I might be ready to venture back into real life now...