I had expected to get emotional yesterday--my birthday, the long imagined swim in the ocean, symbolically burning my clothing (stinky liner socks--the world is a better place without them), watching the sun fall off the edge of the earth, the end of a long journey. None of those things made me cry. I just felt satisfied and peaceful and happy.
This morning, I was waiting for the bus, so I went out for a walk. I found myself walking along the road beside the ocean. I looked down and saw a yellow arrow painted on the road. I´ve seen thousands of them over the past six weeks, but this one was different. This one was pointing in the other direction.
It´s hard to know what will make you cry.
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