Do places change people?

There are candles lit on every table around me right now and I can hear the sea calling out to me in a language only understood by those who listen to the moon, the lighting compliments the golden streaks on my hair I regretted painting on, as if I was meant to sit here and ponder on what I have truly missed out on. For now, I am not accountable for my regrets, I am nothing but a speck among the stars so carefully aligned above me and I can only think of the good. I believe this is the happiest I’ve been in a while, I do not hear my heartbeat till my ears which means I am not anxious or restless. I am calm, serenity is calling out to me and I am not rejecting it this time, instead I accept it, I embrace it. I used to believe that feeling boundless, running from it all is how life was lived. But don’t moments count more when they are countable? Isn’t that what makes our time here so special? I feel finite for the first time in a long time, it feels comfortable knowing that I have a purpose. I have no purpose if I am infinite, I am simply wandering. Seeing my sister run to the beach and wave at me indicating that it is so much more beautiful there with sand in her tiny fingers and a smile plastered across her face makes me happy. Sure maybe these will be memories that will be short lived, but these are my fleeting glimpses of hope. These moments will live on with me forever. Call out to me serenity, for this running race with no end has finally found it’s loophole. If places truly change people, I cannot wait to encounter the rest of the world as I want to be changed, morphed into who I truly am. But mostly, I cannot wait to change the world.