19 Days Under The Sun

The Quiet Between

The morning sun kissed the horizon, painting the sky with soft oranges and pinks as Lila slowly woke to the rhythmic crash of the waves outside. The scent of sea air and tropical blooms drifted through the open windows, wrapping her in a sense of serenity that still felt foreign. Her thoughts stirred restlessly, despite the peace surrounding her. There was something about this place—the tranquility, the stillness—that made her uncomfortable, like she was standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to jump or retreat.

She rolled over, pulling the journal off the nightstand. Her fingers traced the pages filled with messy handwriting, words penned during sleepless nights of doubt and quiet moments of prayer. She flipped to a blank page, the pen hovering over the paper for what felt like an eternity. Her mind wandered, unable to focus on any particular thought.

God, what am I still holding on to? I want to let go. I want to feel free.

The words felt hollow, a prayer spoken more out of habit than conviction. Lila sighed, closing the journal with a soft thud. She hadn't expected peace to come easily, but she hadn't expected the weight of her thoughts to feel this heavy here either.

Raine's voice interrupted her musings as she padded into the room, carrying a tray of breakfast. "Good morning, sleepyhead. You missed the sunrise. But don't worry, I made sure to capture it all on my phone." She winked, setting the tray on the small table by the window.

Lila managed a smile, her eyes scanning the plate of fresh fruit and warm pastries. "Thanks, Raine."

Raine plopped down on the bed next to her, sipping from her mug. "So, what's on the agenda for today? Are you feeling up for another adventure, or do you want to just take it slow?"

Lila picked up a piece of mango, biting into it absentmindedly. The sweetness filled her mouth, but her mind was elsewhere. "I don't know," she admitted. "I kind of just want to...be. Is that okay?"

Raine raised an eyebrow, studying her friend for a moment before nodding slowly. "Of course it's okay. You don't always have to be doing something to make the most of this trip. Sometimes just being is enough."

Lila nodded, grateful for Raine's understanding. She appreciated the thrill of exploration, but today felt different. Today, she needed to sit with her thoughts, to let them unravel without forcing herself into distraction. After breakfast, Raine headed off to explore the local market, leaving Lila alone in the villa. The silence settled around her like a familiar weight, and for a moment, she considered following Raine. But something pulled her toward the beach instead.

The sand felt like warm velvet under her bare feet as she made her way down the narrow path that led to the ocean. Each step echoed a gentle rhythm, and the waves in the distance mimicked the soft pounding of her heart. She walked until the noise of the villa behind her disappeared into the quiet hum of the natural world. The air smelled of salt and distant rain, and the sea stretched out before her, endless and comforting.

Lila hesitated at the edge of the water, letting the cool foam lap at her toes. A part of her wanted to wade in, to let the ocean cleanse her of all the worries, doubts, and questions that had been clouding her mind. But instead, she found herself sitting down at the shoreline, watching the waves move in and out like the steady rise and fall of breath.

The world felt both vast and intimate here, like she was connected to something much larger than herself. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, letting the scent of the ocean fill her lungs. When she exhaled, she imagined the stress leaving her body with it, dissipating into the breeze.

For a long time, Lila sat in stillness, her thoughts drifting like the water before her. The journal sat unopened on her lap, but for once, she didn't feel the need to write. She simply needed to be.

As the minutes stretched into an hour, a small figure appeared in her peripheral vision. A child, maybe five or six years old, was playing further down the beach. He laughed as he chased the waves, running away as they approached, only to return as they receded. His joy was infectious, so pure and unburdened by life's complexities.

Lila smiled softly, watching him, and a quiet longing stirred within her. She wasn't sure what it was—perhaps the innocence of childhood, the simplicity of living in the moment, or the ability to find joy in the smallest things. She used to be like that, didn't she? Before the weight of expectations, before life became a tangled mess of responsibilities, regrets, and lost dreams.

The boy's mother, standing a few feet away, called out to him. He ran to her, his feet kicking up sand, and as they walked hand in hand down the beach, Lila felt a pang of something deep inside her chest. It wasn't sadness, but it wasn't joy either. It was that strange middle place where longing and contentment meet, where you recognize what you've lost but also appreciate where you are.

Lila ran her fingers through the sand, letting the grains slip through her fingers. She couldn't go back in time, couldn't reclaim that childhood innocence. But maybe she could learn to appreciate the small moments again, the way the boy had.

She stayed at the beach until the sun was high in the sky, burning her skin and making the air feel thick with heat. As she stood up to head back to the villa, she noticed a small shell half-buried in the sand. It was chipped and imperfect, its edges worn smooth by the relentless waves. She bent down, picked it up, and turned it over in her hands.

It was a simple thing, a forgotten remnant of something once whole, but as she held it, she realized that even in its brokenness, it was still beautiful. The shell had survived the tides, the storms, the unrelenting force of the ocean. And here it was, not perfect, but still whole in its own way.

Lila smiled and slipped the shell into her pocket. It felt like a small reminder from the universe—or maybe from God—that she didn't have to be perfect either. She could be chipped, worn, and still worthy of being here, still worthy of finding peace.

By the time she returned to the villa, Raine had already unpacked her treasures from the market. The smell of fresh coffee filled the air, and Raine waved her over as she set a cup on the table.

"How was the beach?" she asked, her voice cheerful as ever.

Lila sat down across from her, cradling the warm mug between her hands. "It was good," she said simply, though that word didn't quite capture the depth of what she'd felt. "It was exactly what I needed."

Raine smiled knowingly, sipping her own coffee. "Sometimes that's all we need—a little quiet, a little time with ourselves."

Lila nodded, sipping her coffee in silence. The warmth of the drink settled in her chest, comforting in a way that felt different from anything else. The quiet between her and Raine wasn't awkward or forced; it was a shared understanding that sometimes words weren't necessary.

Later that afternoon, after the sun had dipped a little lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the villa, Lila found herself drawn back to the terrace. She sat in the same spot she'd sat in that morning, but this time, something was different. She wasn't searching for answers or expecting some grand revelation. She was just...being.

Her journal lay open on the table, the pages fluttering gently in the breeze. Without thinking too much, she picked up her pen and began to write. The words came more easily now, flowing from her heart rather than her mind:

God, thank You for the small moments. Thank You for the quiet between the noise, for the peace that comes when we stop trying to control everything. Help me remember that I don't need to have all the answers, that sometimes it's enough to just be. Thank You for showing me that beauty exists, even in broken things.

She paused, looking out at the ocean. The waves continued their steady rhythm, undeterred by her thoughts or her prayers. It was a humbling reminder that life went on, whether she was ready for it or not. But for the first time in a long time, she didn't feel the need to rush. She didn't feel the need to fix everything all at once.

As the sky began to turn shades of pink and gold, Lila closed her journal and leaned back in her chair. The shell in her pocket felt like a quiet reassurance, a promise that even in her imperfection, she was still enough.

And maybe, just maybe, that was the beginning of letting go.