I step outside this morning just before sunrise and see that our paddleboard boat is gone and Mark and Parker aren’t in sight. I assume they’re out on the water though I don’t see them. Moments later I’m startled to see them walking down the beach, a few hundred yards away. Immediately my heart sinks…our paddleboards were stolen. Mark must be going to talk to Chuey, the local that oversees this camping area.
It’s just stuff, and Mark & I made a very intentional decision to not live in paranoia, to accept the fact that theft is always a possibility anywhere, but I feel sad, mad, and confused. What does this mean for the rest of our trip? Will we be able to feel comfortable again or will we be on edge for awhile? Everything is fine, no one is hurt or in danger, but I feel anxious and intruded upon. I keep glancing down the beach, wondering what Mark is doing and anxious for him to get back. They’re slowly making their way this direction, when I realize that is indeed not Mark or Parker.
Wait, what? I furrow my brow and look a little harder.
Nope. Not them. Though, two people with remarkably similar statures and outfits. Hallelujah, our stuff was actually not stolen! Wow. What a whirlwind of emotions and the sun isn’t even up yet.
I once again scan the water and see nothing but assume they’re out motoring around one of the nearby islands. Hopefully *this* assumption is accurate.
I so badly want to be a chill wife when they return, casually mentioning to Mark how it would have been nice if he’d let me know they were going out on the water. I attempted to play that card but failed. Mark knew I wasn’t happy and he felt terrible. And yet he was simply trying to be kind and not wake me up when he left. I got over it quickly since it turned out there was nothing wrong, nothing to be upset about. Nothing like starting the day with a little unnecessary adrenaline dump though.