My whole existence is flawed, you get me closer to God.

Florida is where I belong... I can't deny it anymore.

No matter how depressed and whiny and pathetic I'm being, the beach always pushes all that away.

Sand burns, jellyfish stings, sand in my bikini, they don't hurt me. And they make me forget the heartbreak, the sadness and the pain. None of that matters when I'm in Florida. What matters is that the sun rises every day and the waves wash onto the shore. What matters is that my aunt will always make me a Hurricane when I feel like being adventurous, or go swimming in the bay with me. There's bike paths, fishing piers, and bars.
There's Cocodrie's, and the pagoda, and SeaDoo rentals.
There's 800 miles of beach just begging to be explored.

But here?
There's nothing here... nothing that keeps me tied down. I just want to go to Navarre and forget I ever lived here. All the drama, the lies and the high school crap can just sink into the gulf.
I want to do my four years, get my bachelor's, finish my master's and move. In that order.
I don't want to get involved with anyone here. If there's love for me, he's in Florida. And if he's not, well, that's not really my problem.