The beach. The place where water meets land. It’s place where everyone can hang out in peace. It’s the place where divas can tan while nagging about not getting their hair wet, while jocks play beach volley ball, loners sit and watch the rolling waves, and partiers can throw a giant, warm, wet and wild party bash.
Yes, the beach was definitely wonderful.
I liked the beach very much. It was calming with the rising and falling of the waves, the hot sun and the commotion that seemed to drown out the evil in the world. It was also a good place to go when you have nothing to do, which was exactly what I was there for.
I seated myself upon a rock by the water's edge and crossed my legs. My guitar, whose strap rarely left my shoulder, was automatically balanced on my knees. She wasn’t anything special to anyone besides me. She had many battle scars on her wood surface and cracks in her glaze, but she was my best friend.
I played various songs as a watched various things blankly. The sea, people around me, a seagull attacking a crab that had washed up on shore. Nothing at that time seemed to make any sense to me. Nothing seemed to faze me as important.
I was seated on the rock, playing my guitar and staring into space. I’d probably been in that position for three hours or so. Just sitting there, in a trance. Many people had walked by, listened for a moment then moved on, none of them saying anything to me.
Yes, I had come here by myself, but that was because I liked coming here alone…And maybe because I didn’t like any of the people I knew. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family to bits, but I don’t want them around all the time. And…Well I guess I don’t really know anyone else around here.
I don’t like to classify myself a loner. A person is only a loner if they allow themselves to be one. It’s not that I don’t want to have friends, but people around these parts just don’t seem to want to befriend me.
So, sitting there by myself, I waited for the sun to set, the party to start, and, secretly, someone to talk to.