The beach house

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My grandpa was a very smart guy, unlike my parents. When he started noticing the trace of substance abuse behind my mother's eyes, he started staying with me more and more often.

I was a child, but I still remember those days. He used to take me for a few weeks at his beach house and took care of me everyday.

He endured a lot. My grandma passed away a little before, but he still stepped up and took me in while grieving. He's my hero.

I know for a fact that we both gave each other hope in our respective dark households. He had to deal with his wife's death while I had to adjust to the absence of my parents. Because their neglect made them invisible, even if they were physically there, passed out on the couch of the living room.

At sixteen I started working, taking small jobs here and there. Eventually I saved enough money for me to buy a car by the age of eighteen. I could finally go live with my grandpa.

I moved out and stayed a little in touch with my parents. I went to college near the beach house and made really great memories there.

But it was when Grandpa was at the hospital, on his deathbed, that I saw my parents again.
They showed up, red-eyed, and they were so drunk that security made them leave.

That night I decided to completely cut off contact with them.

When he eventually passed away, I got a call saying that he put the beach house in my name "just in case I needed a home to come back to".

But I simply couldn't live in his house without him. It was too soon, and the wound of his death was still fresh.

So I decided to live on campus, spending summers on road trips with friends. That's when I met Tristan.
He was still a med student, and his smile and lame pickup lines did for me.

We started dating, I graduated, got a stable job and we eventually moved in together.

I liked the stablity of all of it.

Tristan knows about a house inherited by my grandfather in a town I used to live in, but I haven't told him much details.

Which apparently came in very handy, since I'm heading towards it right now. It was a 5 hours long road trip, and I used most of that free time to clear my mind.

I put on some music, thinking about the town, the house, my friends. I stayed in contact with Tina, my bestfriend from there.

I called her, and she instantly picked up. Her chipper voice made me smile. I told her about the situation I was in, that I was a few hours away from the town. Her excitement made me forget a little the circumstances that led me there.

I had many stops on my way, and I took my sweet time to do so, since I left early in the morning. I got food - mostly snacks - for the house, and had lunch in a fast food restaurant.

Around noon, I decided to call Camilla. She's a really close friend of mine, and also lives in New York. I told her that I left, and insisted on her keeping her mouth shut on my whereabouts. She reassured me, and made me promise to text her if I needed anything.

It was just when I ended the call that I noticed the familiarity of the landscapes. Warmth filled my heart, I had arrived.

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