Everything I Long For

By Lauren Ramos

Image from Lindsay Love

Something in me begins to break through the thick layers of my winter skin in the month of March, when the sun gets a little closer to this side of earth and I can stand to drive with the windows down. As this chasm begins to expand right before my eyes, for the last time I’ll feel it in my college career, a specific longing spreads through my body. I yearn to be home on the beach, my hair soaked with saltwater, but I am also extremely aware that this is the last spring I’ll live in Raleigh. A nostalgia for this time of year, for the past three years, fills my head and my heart. It’s always been a time of the year I’ve relished since my first year here. But the joy of spring has always been accompanied by the desire to be at home on the coast.

This year is different. I am grasping at everything I can to hold onto this last month and a half before it’s all real. Before I do go home and I face some very real responsibilities and there’s no such thing as having the summer off anymore. It’s still not processed that there aren’t many more days left of this time of my life, and the days are fleeting as I’m still not comprehending it all. 

I’ll tell you all about what I long for in these months:

My skin changes right before my eyes as it soaks in the sun, and I start to look more like my father and my last name. I feel something in my blood change–like I was always meant to be in the water and in the sunshine. Like it’s woven in my DNA to be where I am. 

My daily jewelry transforms to less gold and more wax-coated string. I remember how special it is to wear anklets and beaded bracelets I share with my boyfriend’s mom and sister while we’re out on the boat. My most special tan line is the one around my wrist from my Shark watch. I wear more linen and less layers. My bathing suit drawer is a mess and bikinis pile up in my shower.

There’s always sand on the floorboard of my car. I won’t wear closed toed shoes in weeks and my toenail polish revolves on a constant cycle of bright colors. I forget about hair cuts and watch my waves grow longer and lighter. My morning routine takes less makeup and more sunscreen. 

My high school best friends are still around and we drive up and down the island. We eat ice cream and have family dinners at Caroline’s house. Her pool is open just for us, and we know it. The bar down the road serves us summer cocktails and fresh fruit on the sides of our plates. There is no other love like the one we share between us. 

I couldn’t ask for more. I don’t mind living a little life. All I long for is the salt air and sunshine and my best friends.