Storms approaching from the sea are among my best childhood memories. Some kids love thunderstorms.
How many times do I need to tell myself that she is Not The One! She is Not for Me! She belongs to somebody else! When am I'm going to get this over with! No! I can't face her! She is Not what I deserve! I wish I could stop! I wish this storm could be over. I hate to admit it but I do want this person even If don't because I'm just lying to myself. I know deep inside me, I want this person. I'm just afraid.
The smell of the sea…hooks us somewhere deeper than reason or civilization, in the fragments of our cells that rocked in oceans before we had minds, and it pulls till we follow mindlessly as rutting animals. (Tana French)