The tangle of unknowns finally gave way to a fitful sleep, pulling me deeper and deeper into dreams that weren’t my own.
Of salty tides and the crush of sand under my bare feet. He was out there somewhere, lost to me beyond the chasm of unending surf and stars. I wanted to weep at the fruitlessness of my vigil, but something kept me rooted there, watching the horizon until the night gave way to the soft inky tendrils of early dawn.
When I awoke the next morning, I felt an urge to peer outside and confirm that I was still tied firmly to the present and not floating aimlessly through a past that wasn’t mine.
The floorboards creaked as I eased myself out of bed and padded barefoot to the window. Bright streaks of sunshine were etched along the web of frost that dotted the pane. I traced my fingers across the glass, my eyes wandering toward the neglected expanse of beach that stretched out in front of me. From the distance I thought I saw the slight indention of footprints along the shoreline.
“Don’t stop,” I wanted to whisper. “Don’t wait for something that might never come.”
Because for me it was true. There was no going back.
They say it’s mostly empty this time of year, just the gray indifference of the crashing tides. But when you’re running and trying to escape the ghosts of your past, solitude can be a haven for your heart’s unrest.
Photographer: Spencer Wohlrab, StyleCaster
Stylist: Truc Nguyen, StyleCaster
Hair: Roz Murray for Bumble & Bumble
Makeup: Samantha Trinh, Atelier Management
Model: Nikole Luna, New York Models
Fashion Assistants: Dawnn Lee Mitchell & Jordan Kopstein
Producer: Truc Nguyen, StyleCaster
Words: Summer Krecke
Music: Aled Roberts
Special thanks to the Sol East Resort in Montauk, Long Island.