Yesterday was only the second time this summer I went to the beach. And like the first time this summer, I went with family. To be honest, it wasn’t as fun as it was the first time. That may have something today with my allergies and sinus acting up, coupled with another family member or two also being under the weather. It was still a great time – because on the car ride home, I was exhausted and fell asleep twice (I was woken up once, with what I thought was pink eye because my right eye was bright red, when we stopped over at a gas station to pray Maghrib).
But something about being at the beach, and this time specifically, always leaves me and had left me with the feeling that I’ve missed out. Sure I was there for the set up, when we went into the water, coming out of the water, going into the water, the food, the games and sports and jokes. Fulfilling. But the experience somehow always felt hollow.
A self-esteem issue. I think.
I’d hardly ever gone to the beach with friends. Especially not in a group, the type I would see whenever I was at the beach with my family. You know the type? Half the people lying on the mat, watching their friends play volleyball or soccer or throw around a football. Doing their own thing but doing it together. It was like the American dream for me. Maybe just because I’ve never done that. Maybe it’s not even as fun as it looks. Or maybe its the same beast, different animal (KOBE!).
I think part of the issue comes from never being in a group of friends that have found that an attractive thing to do. Another part of it is that I have never been able to dedicate myself to the gym the way I would have liked to (I’m starting again to try and be consistent *fingers crossed) in order to have that beach body that would make me want to go the gym more than just twice in a summer. Or I just wanted to bring myself down a little bit that way. At almost 26, I don’t think I’m going to have a chance to have those types of outings in the context that I’ve thought about. Do I care? Not really, to be honest. I would have just liked to though.
Often I think if what I’m writing is relatable or at the very least at least makes sense for some sort of apathy.
Maybe I’m not supposed to be writing. Maybe I’d prefer to vlog instead, where I can watch myself tomorrow, the day after, a year or 15 later to see what I looked like and admire my narcissistic self. At least people can see my joking nature that way than to take everything I write as literally as it seems. I try to be honest in what I’m saying though, as honest as I believe I’m being in that moment.
Because when I look back and think about the thoughts that I’ve had, they seem like a failed tetris game – inevitable but necessary.
Have you ever thought about matters that you don’t really care about the outcome now, but still wished it would have happened differently?