Chapter One-Zero-Eight: Ocean

It's been a week since my discharge from the hospital. My house with Lewis is huge and unfamiliar with only two permanent staff, a maid who, it seems, was paid not to talk to me and a gardener; the rest come on demand. Among the things I adore about it is that it overlooks the ocean.

I love the smell of the ocean, the salt and sand, the sulphates and heat...it reminds me of a home I am not certain that I can reach anymore.

What is that feeling? A homesickness for a place one does not know.

Funnily enough, sometimes I find myself hating the scent, the loudness of the waves, the tides that ruin our fence, the heavy storms the sea causes and the terrifying inky darkness that consumes it when the moon is not out.

It is a weird love-hate relationship that leads me to spend most of my mornings gazing out the window because, despite how I feel about it, it’s there, it's stable, and it’s the only thing that feels real.

My life doesn’t feel real.

My wardrobe is filled with clothes that do not