I laid in the bed, hot and sweaty beneath the covers and yet, amazingly not uncomfortable. I think I'd grown numb to things like that. It was as if those years of excruciating pain and illness had made the little discomforts in life completely fade away... or at least seem pretty insignificant.

I stared at the wall for a long, long time. There was a crack there, to the left of the window that I'd slid open just enough to allow the sea breeze to blow in, and the curtains to shimmer in the moonlight of the falling Hawaiian night. I wondered silently if there was some way to stare at that crack long enough that it would open up wide and swallow me whole. Then I wouldn't have to worry about life anymore. I wouldn't have to worry about things like cancer and relapse and dying. I wouldn't have to worry about leaving behind my husband or my daughter. I wouldn't have to worry about arguments -- significant or insignificant. Worth having or completely pointless. I wouldn't have to worry about the divorce papers, sitting on the bedside table, tucked neatly beneath my favorite picture of my family -- still unsigned.

The day had gone by too quickly, like most days on the beach do. I'd spent the majority of my time in the lounge chair on the deck, pouring over the words on those papers and thinking, just thinking about all the things I'd done to deserve the course my life was taking. I'd watched Nick and Mia for a long time as they played together on the beach and swam in the ocean. If there was one thing in the world I would never tire of, it was watching the two of them together. Then Nick had gone out for a little while and I had spent the afternoon the same way I spent most of my afternoons these days; bathing my daughter and fixing her lunch, reading her stories and getting her down for her nap. Then we'd gone out together for ice cream... Nick's idea, for Mia. He asked if I wanted to come along and I couldn't say no when her little voice called out for me from the backseat of the car. The two of us sat in silence though, in the middle of the local ice cream parlor as our toddler animatedly described her daily adventures, The customers around us laughed at her descriptions of the "sand trab" and the "tarfish" and I smiled on adoringly as she talked about how her daddy saved a fishy... but of course it couldn't mask the sadness that surrounded us. The silence overwhelming and the awkwardness evident... at least to the two of us.

I took my eyes away from the crack on the wall for a few moments and focused them onto the photo on the nightstand. There we were; Nick and Mia and myself. We were sitting on the porch of this very house, Mia in Nick's lap and his arms around me and we were smiling... we were smiling.

I remembered the day the photo was taken as if it'd only been a minute ago. It had been a year though... on our last family vacation with my mom and dad and Brian and Leighanne and Baylee. An entire year ago.

So much could happen in a year.

I sat up on the bed and lifted the picture from it's place on the nightstand. I gently ran my fingers over the faces of my daughter and my husband. The thought that he would soon be my ex-husband was a reality I was not prepared to face. I lifted the divorce papers up once more, pen in my hand, poised and ready to sign. But I couldn't. I just couldn't. I couldn't throw it all away, knowing that it was my fault and mine alone. Knowing I was the one who needed the help... that I was the one who could make things right again. I stared at the picture one last time. I owed it to him... I owed it to her. I owed it to both of them, and to myself to try and make things right.

Suddenly the hot, sticky discomfort of the bedroom that hadn't seemed so bad before, now seemed completely overwhelming. I needed to get out of there for a little while. I needed some fresh air... a walk on the beach. I stood and slipped quietly from the room, hoping I wouldn't disturb Nick and Mia on my way out. I opened the door and walked out onto the porch, facing the beach and watching as the waves rolled in from a distant somewhere.

I took in a deep breath when I saw him sitting there on the steps, his sillouette muscular and beautiful in the moonlight. He was leaning there, his chin resting in his hands, his back towards me, staring out at the water.

"Hi..." I whispered as he turned around, realizing for the first time that I was there.

"Hey..." He looked surprised, but scooted quickly over and motioned for me to sit down beside him. I did so and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me towards him quickly and easily exactly as if it were something he expected to do for the rest of his life.

"You okay?" he asked, looking back out towards where the waves were crashing on the horizon.

Okay? Was there a definition for that word? What exactly did it mean to be okay? I certainly didn't feel okay... I hadn't felt okay in a long, long time.

"No, I'm not okay," I thought to myself... but instead of answering I just leaned into him more, resting my head against his shoulder and staring out at the same horizon, watching the same waves... wondering where they'd come from... and wondering where they were headed.