Saltwater Antidote to a City Heartbreak

The city was a cage built of concrete and silence, but here, under the relentless sun, my skin feels like it's finally learning how to breathe. I let myself be consumed by this turquoise fever, letting the ocean wash away every cynical thought that ever made me numb.

There is a fatal pull in this warmth, not just from the heat on my back but from the memory of his touch—the only thing that felt real when everything else was rotting. It's dangerous to find solace so easily, almost like cheating death by feeling alive again while standing waist-deep in paradise.

I look at you through these waves and know we are both addicted now; not just to the thrill of being seen without a mask on, but to this terrifyingly sweet escape. We don't need maps or exits anymore when we've found something that burns brighter than any regret.

Editor: The Escape Plan