Crashing waves from the Pacific call to me, beckoning me to come and play in it’s frothy waters. The beach has always been the place I run to. It’s the place I feel most at home. It’s the place where my heart is refreshed and my thoughts can slow down and be processed.

Strolling along, my fingers find comfort being woven in between his. The sound of his voice is lost somewhere between his lips and my ears. The roar of the waves caries his words off to a distant place. Rounding the corner, I feel like I’ve suddenly stepped into Auschwitz and there are no survivors.