I wish you and I were at my favorite beach- Tybee Island. I love when the ocean water feels warm against your skin, even in the middle of the night, and I love the mystery of looking at the dark water around your legs, knowing nothing about the ground you're standing on. I was always the only one to walk away from our beach fire and run toward the water tossing my clothes off the entire way. I always get the feeling that I should turn back, but I never do- at least not when the water is warm. I could have sat at that beach all day every day, contemplating how to gather up the courage to leave my life behind and just stay. I was always waiting for the night when I just wouldn't go home. But I always had to ride with someone else, and when they told me it was time to leave I just would. I wonder if I might still have been sitting there. It's one of those places that seem so magical that the past and the future and everything else seem to just fade into the background. I need that sometimes. I act strangely toward you at times. I try not to, but lately whenever I feel vulnerable I just run away or try harder to act happy. It comes out all wrong when I'm around you because I feel like you see through me at times, and when I'm with you my mind is either stuck in the severity of reality, or a completely passionate dream. I can't be something I'm not when I'm with you, and I don't think I want you to know too much of what goes on in my head. I don't know, maybe I do want that I'm just afraid of it. I don't remember my purpose in writing this. I know you're with Libby, and I know that I'm here alone.