Regret, let go of my hand

The closer I get to the shores of my beloved, I reminisce… my heart is as full as the setting sun and my tummy is as empty as the blonde sitting to the right of me – whoopsing her cookies into the sea.

I do not regret past experiences, well, maybe the one where I was seriously covered from foot to thigh bone in hungry black ants watching a basketball game in the town square; spraining my ankle cuz I was not watching the dips in the street due to taking photos of doors. Even enduring being eaten alive by Mexican Mosquitoes at Xel Ha for seven hours...naw that one sucked. Those made for peculiar memories, we’ve all got a few pushed back in our minds, these are the ones I push back but they make Isla Mujeres bittersweet.

I DO, however REGRET not following my heart on some trips and even this one – hence the metaphor and reality of "I fell". Tossed with the tide, hoping the shore holds fast to the palpitation of my soul.

I bloom here, I leave my mark here. I am a part of this latitude/longitude.

This time, the closer I get to the shores of my beloved I ache with longing, oh Isla, no regrets and I will fall only once... and when I do, I will sigh.