Just You and Me on the Beach

I had a job in IT which I thought was a dream come true, given that I was twenty-five at the time and living in a city rich with ambition and a glowing skyline. In occupations related to technology, I was sure I would find a high salary, a refined Office City, and probably never-ending coffee shops. Sadly, the truth was a bit different. My once rejuvenating night-time sleep increasingly began to vanish, replaced by an endless treadmill of deadlines and back-to-back meetings. The impersonal and merciless tech culture of the city was suffocating me — stale office spaces, exhausted workers kept alive by coffee and anxiety, a ruthless atmosphere of constant one-upmanship, and a blinding absence of even the most basic workplace consideration. Kindness, respect, and toxic human bonding were unfamiliar concepts. In addition, the boss possessed a talent for pouring hellfire scorn on teensy-weensiest mistakes — and you were there for the rest of the week once you entered his sights. I started receiving weekly phone calls from my family, where my job was the center of the questions' universe: “How is work going?” “Is a house coming next? What about a car?” To me, they felt like blood drops falling on a wound, while for others, they were as light as a feather. I started questioning my future, my ambitions, the essence of my being— and my life. Did I really want this mechanical, droned existence with and over my head? A thought began to haunt me How would it feel to ditch everything, my over demanding life and my corporate dead end . How sweet and freeing would it feel to head over to a no-name town by a beach where I could blend in, and paint a fresh start with my life? Where no one knew my name, and started over? After months of introspection and repressed feelings, I finally reached a conclusion: my decision was to quit my job and prepare to depart from the city. I was prepared to begin anew, this time in a coastal town where I could breathe and the air felt lighter, a place where my chest would not feel constricted. The day before I was set to leave, I was reminiscing through the city I once called home in my mind, a place where I went to school, worked, and grew to know myself. Now, every inch of this city brought back a memory, a mixture of laughter, late nights, and quiet sobs, accompanied by the heavy burden of a lot of stress. While there were a few bits and pieces I could take back with me, the majority was something I would prefer to leave behind. Still, this city had shaped me. And now, it was time to say farewell. I rented a small truck that would move my belongings, which did not amount to much; a couple of clothing pieces, an ancient laptop, and a few boxes containing books. As the truck moved out of the city, I did not glance back. I was sure of the fact that this was not simply about enabling myself to begin anew; it was about crossing over into new beginnings, welcoming a different life waiting for me past the horizon. I spotted the city’s dull arches give way to the crowd’s hustle and bustle, I remember looking forward to the day I would escape that jointed cycle, face full of despair. But now, I had the elated feeling that I was free. It felt like that, for the first time, I had buttons to release, the backpack of burdens I had carried was lightened. As I kept driving, the scrapers began to fade and replaced red the green of the lush mountains of trees. The baubles of nature poured their gifts onto the world, as the rays of the sun filtered and danced triumphantly through the green. It was as if nature was settling the way for my right path and welcoming me. I knew, now, there was a world waiting to inspire me for adventures, and this time, I would set the galops and embrace side of me I never resonated with. The time was now to get a chance to shine and squeeze the juice out of a life of fulfillment. After hours on the road, the sea finally appeared vast, quiet, and blue as if it had been waiting to wrap me in a gentle embrace. The coastal town was smaller than I had imagined, but it carried a sense of calm I hadn’t felt in years. No honking horns, no crowded streets just the sound of waves lapping against the shore and the faint scent of salt drifting in the air. I SCREAM "FEEL SO COMFORTABLE!!!!'' The town’s coastal area turned out to be much more soothing than I had anticipated, with warriors of old and demons of the modern day receding into distant, shallow waters. As I pulled into the town’s shores I was welcomed with the refreshing scent of the ocean. The house that I had rented was a single story with wooden fences and pale blue walls. As I pulled up to the house I was accompanied with a box filled with the last of my old belongings. It wasn’t fancy, but it felt… enough. Enough to be called home. The landlady, a kind middle-aged woman, handed me the keys and said: “Life moves slower here. You’ll get used to it.” I nodded, smiling softly. Maybe… I had finally arrived at the place I was meant to be.