I’d been laying on our floor cushions for two weeks, unable to get up, or out, or do very much of anything. My body felt good, I was able to walk to the kitchen, the bathroom, and could even shower by myself. I hadn’t taken pain medication in a while, and the new splint was pretty comfortable. So when he rushed into the room with a sticky note that said “I love you more than every grain of sand by the ocean,” he had the biggest smile.
“Let’s go to the beach today. It’s really gorgeous out, and I’m sure you’d like to see the sun.” I looked up at him like he was crazy, but he had that glimmer of excitement in his eyes that made his smile contagious. I imagined the beach. Warm, fresh air, cool water… even if I couldn’t swim I could definitely use some color. I’d become pale and sickly from my injury, and I could practically smell the salt water. We gathered towels, and drinks and sunblock.
“What else should we bring? Food or something?” He laughed, enjoying the spontaneity of it all.
“We would have known if we planned a few weeks ahead like everyone else does.” He said. “Fortunately for us, we aren’t like everyone else.”
I laughed and grabbed our phones. He threw the camera in the duffle bag and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess we’re ready.”
“Why not?” I said. And off we went.
The beach was about an hour drive, and we talked about all sorts of things. Sometimes he got busy with work, and I missed him so much when he was away. The conversation flowed between us, and it was refreshing to connect with him. I almost forgot I was hurt at 
all. The trees sped past the car, and the air got clearer and crisper as we neared the shoreline. I rested my hand on his broad shoulder while he drove, feeling the soft, thin tee under my fingers.
Finding a parking space was a challenge, but we managed. He let me hold his arm as we gathered our things from the car and made our way through the bushes. We could hear children laughing and the waves crashing.
“Don’t you come near me with that! This is a library book!” One mother scolded her child, bucket full of sand and shells and sea water. The child ran off, splashing her bucket on her father. He laughed and picked her up.
We found a spot by the lifeguard tower to put down our things, and went straight for the water. It was cool, lapping at my toes and pulling the sand out from under me. I watched him run further in, playing in the ocean, and I sat where the water tickled the bottom of my feet.
He strode towards me, water and sweat dripping from his handsome face, and plopped beside me.
“Sand Castle Contest!” He giggled and plopped some wet sand in front of me. I started sculpting, first, a moat and a little skull island, complete with white shell teeth and seaweed hair. He piled sand all around me, creating his city. The tide came in a bit higher, and we scooted backwards, still building, as the water filled our moats and pulled at our buildings. Hermit crabs got stuck in the tidepools.”Look dear, we’ve built them a home!” I pointed towards the little sandy legs, wriggling in the air, as one of the shells was flipped over. There was a grand bridge, lined with bones and glass and bits of shell, and as we worked our way up the beach, I sculpted a large sand fish, with driftwood spines and scales. He had seaweed hair, too.
The sun set slowly upon us, and families packed up their tents and umbrellas, and wandered away. Not us. We had paid for our entry and we’d be there until close, side by side, looking at the endless ocean and feeling like a piece of the universe. I stole a few pictures of him, and he called me out. “But dear, I can’t help it. I uhm, needed some foreground. And I was going to show you, anyway.” He wasn’t the type to appear in photographs, but the beauty of the moment had my heart, as did he, and I needed to.
“Fine,” he said. “But I’m just going to have to take pictures of you so we’re even.” He surprised me with his camera phone, and I laughed. We sat up on a huge log of driftwood, wondering what kind of tree it had been and where it had come from. Gnats rose from the sand and started nipping at our legs, indicating that we’d need to leave soon. We were busy though, admiring each other, the view, and the moment.
“You know, it could always be like this,” He said.
“I hope so.” I replied. He held my hand tightly and kissed my cheek before we stood.
❤ Rachael Emily, Co-Founder of Kreadiv Media
To Our Readers: Where was your most recent daytrip?
Kreadiv Media Magazine 