One.

This is for the Jing-Jang-Jong.

I'm not sure if the saying is 'Beginnings are easy, endings are hard'. Maybe that's true. Maybe it's only true when it comes to relationships. But the point is, this beginning is hard for me.

I'm starting off not at the beginning, because I don't know how to define it (When I'm boarding the plane? When I land in Japan? When I say goodbye?), but yesterday: 20/01/2011.

After meandering over the shingles and stones I plonked down on the 'glorious' Brighton sea front. Strewn about me were a couple of heavy bags, crammed with clothes and little presents for people. I sat and looked out to sea.

Bam!

Memory!

(Craig will understand this: I wrote to him before about these moments)

Something clicked.

It was about 4.30pm.

The sun was on its slow descent straight across the water.

It's horrible how beautifully clichéd this moment was.

There were silhouettes of this old couple standing at the waters edge. They may not have been together, they may not have been happy. But their image was one of pure closeness.

It reminded me of being happy.

It reminded me of being in love.

There was enough cloud cover so you could stare directly at the sun, I followed it with my eyes until the clouds shifted and it dazzled white light. The water shone. You could see the little rip-tides out at sea. And as I was sat between the beautiful (in its elegant gaudiness), working, living pier and the hollow shell of the old one, I felt my place. Being trapped between lives didn't matter because the sea was ahead. You could feel all the space you had to breathe, going on, for miles and miles out to sea. And the piers were comforting. I didn't have to choose between them, they were just next to me, a part of my living space.

Family's were trawling the sea front, beautiful in their shadowed anonymity of perfection.

I watched a little longer and finally got up and turned directly behind. Crossed the shingle, headed over the traffic islands and into town.

The moment had to end, so I let it do so in solitude.

Every time I go to Brighton, I joke I am returning to the home land. But that's how it feels.

I want to take you guys there.

I want you all to sit on the beach as the sun goes down. Sat in deckchairs, fish and chips in hand. And to laugh at how gay and poetic I want to be. But secretly we are all thinking how beautiful the moment is.

(Thanks to Bernie who sent the exact, right, text when this was happening.

We're sharing our places :)

Forever yours.