I sat where I had collapsed on the sand just moments before, letting the angry rain pelt my already-soaked body. The ocean was before me, beckoning me, drawing nearer with each crash of waves upon the shore. The red flag to my right rippled loudly as the wind continued to tear through it, almost as a way of warding me off. ‘Go home, be safe, it’s too dangerous here’.

A younger me may have listened to the warning signs. Hell, a younger me probably would have tucked my tail and ran at the slightest sign of danger; but that would have been a more naïve, less broken version of the girl I was today. Instead, as the storm grew with anger so did my excitement. I yearned for chaos. I had been surrounded by it so often in recent years that it was my new normal. I was an addict.

It didn’t come as much of a shock, the addiction. After all, I grew up being warned of the ‘family curse’ of how one day, if I wasn’t careful, it would ruin my life too. I suppose my addiction isn’t like the rest, they were all addicted to material things. My father’s kryptonite was drugs, his father’s was alcohol, and the father before him was any substance that would allow him to forget the war. Addiction was something that had plagued this family for many years. Now it was my turn; perhaps I had the worst one yet.

When most would search for peace and calm, I searched for the opposite. Chaos was my calm; if it didn’t find me, I found it. I’d imagine that was why I found myself on the beach in this storm while everyone else was tucked away inside. I felt more alive standing in the wind and rain than I had in months.

It’s not like I was having a bad day. If any average person were in my shoes, they would tell you that today was an exceptionally ordinary day. I woke up, got ready, and went for a walk; I even stopped at this delightful little coffee shop. Perhaps the ordain moments I found myself in throughout the day were why I sat on the raging shore. After all, I always found it if chaos didn’t find me.

I wasn’t always like this. I used to be able to look into the mirror and be met with bright emerald eyes that still carried hope in them. Now when I looked into the mirror all I was met with was a dull copy of the girl I once was. It was funny how one singular moment in time could change a person. Some would argue that it was a compilation of different moments that would lead to that change, but I knew that wasn’t always the case.

It wasn’t as if I had a glowing childhood filled with love and butterflies. My childhood was quite grim, but I always managed to see the brighter side of things. It wasn’t until that one night and those two trembling words that I truly believed the universe was against me.