Recently I had the opportunity to go on a boat ride.  A pontoon boat, usually lame and/or filled with 16 year old individuals filled with tequila shots.  This time it was filled with my boyfriend and his family, still unsure whether the purchase of a pontoon was a good decision.  

It was.  

The boat, despite all appearances, flew at a swift 40 miles per hour.  We were in low country, and watching the reeds stay still in contrast to our movement gave the impression we were hovering over the water at an incredible speed.  Moments before we boarded to head home in the direction of Beaufort, I received news from an employer, not only devastating, but inconvenient for limited time with my loved ones.  
The ride, while beautiful, was as though we had taken flight and I was left without any thought or senses in the front of the boat.  The sun had been setting and at this point was caught in the haze of the storms that had missed us.  I sat, with my sunglasses on, only tears to keep my feelings in check.  While the rest of the boat laughed and clung to each other in our journey home, I sat, staring ahead to whatever birds or dolphins might show themselves, and let my sadness fall randomly and quickly behind me, making contact with individuals who would mistake them for spray.  


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