Dear Island I Someday Hope to Own

To me, you are everything.

I know that is a lot of pressure for one island to carry on it's own, but I have to be honest. All of my hope is rested on you. All of my hope rests on you. Every dream I have is fulfilled because of you. Just knowing you are out there, somewhere, waiting for me, helps me get through life.

I long for your sandy beaches and non-existent bugs. I ache for the caress of your easy breezes blowing in from the south. I awake each day with the hope of seeing you shine like the diamond you are; aglow in sunlight, paradise and our love.

To only see your strengths might say to others that I am infatuated, that our love isn't real and that it won't stand the test of time. To those who would hate on our love, I say: "OUT! OUT! You haters of purity and passion! I condemn you to exile with people!"

We shall be together in our solitudinous amour, enduring all tropical storms and power outages. Our hearts will burn electric and fuel our life and my laptop.

I want you, island. I want you for the promise of an allergen-free life. I want to breathe you in. I want to breathe. I wish to eat fruits and vegetables. I wish to document my life with an ink pen; not define it via the expiration date of my epi pen.

I want to spend a day without answering the repetitive questions of the assuming, the condescending, the demoralizing masses who won't read or listen. I don't want to see the short shorts with the materials from the pockets hanging out underneath. I don't want to hear the off-key singing of the loud and misguided. I will not miss the smelly graduate or the woman in the pink Cadillac with the pink stickers on her back window proclaiming: "I'm a bad bitch."

(I want to take just a moment here because I was quite bewildered by the sight of this lady. First, did she mean she was bad, like MJ bad, meaning good, but full of bad-arse-dness? Was she shamed into driving this car with it Pepto-pink lettering because she was not in fact any good at being a bitch? Frankly, she looked a little uncomfortable whilst driving. Maybe that was the shame, maybe she was sitting on her bad pistol. Either way, really? I mean, you really need a sticker to tell people that? And doesn't a pink Caddy take some of the sting out of said proclamation?)

I just want to be with you. I want to wake up glad for the day from a restful night. If I itch my shoulder, I don't want to cry out in pain because I had been so tense for the past hour that scratching hurt. I want fresh food, respite, and you.

Until we are together, caro mio.
With undying love,

me