She was used to nervous behaviour, by then it was a large part of who she was. She carried her anxiety around with her everyday, in a little box inside of her heart. And it didn’t matter how hard she worked to open it, to set it free and be okay again, the seal was impenetrable.
Until one day, she went to the beach.
It was the first time she had seen you alone. The first time she had danced in the sand to the sound of the waves. The first time she had watched the stars from the comfort of a blanket. And the wind grew stronger and forced her hair to fly. But you lay with her, protecting yourselves from the elements and listened to the waves. And for the first time, in what she thought to be a very long time, she put the box down. She didn’t try to open it, didn’t try to break it, she just let it be. And the sound of the waves that crashed into the sand, rid her of the fear that clouded her mind. Rinsed her of the anxiety, for just long enough, that she was able to breathe. And she looked at you, with a smile on her face, only to see you already watching her. And she asked if you wanted to leave as the wind acted violently, but she hoped you’d decline. Which of course you did, as if reading her mind. You said it needed to be perfect and she questioned it, but you just smiled at that was enough. And under the moonlight with stars for company, you both lay in the sand and listened to the waves crash, and you had your first kiss of many. Despite being a writer, she could never truly describe how if felt, and get it right. But when you drove her home and tucked some hair behind her ear, you kissed her goodnight and that was it. She lay in bed that evening thinking of you, and forgot to remember the little box inside of her. She didn’t notice then, but her little box full of anxiety and sorrow, had the smallest of gaps. Down where the edges once met, now showed space for hope. The box, was beginning to open.
And if there was nothing else in this world she should thank you for, she thanks you for that.